


Royal

by 1V1



Series: Kingsbane [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Asshole Loki, BDSM, Begging, Biting, Bondage and Discipline, Clothed Sex, Dark Loki (Marvel), Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Escapism, F/F, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Jealous Loki (Marvel), Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Manipulation, Markings, Master/Pet, Multi, Possessive Behavior, Public Sex, Ragnarok-AU, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex, Royalty kink, Sex, Smut, Survival, Threesome - F/F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy, Voyeurism, salvery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-03-08 22:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 55
Words: 104,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13467675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1V1/pseuds/1V1
Summary: Transported to Sakaar by pure cosmic accident, you manage to survive two long years in the Grandmaster's favor, keeping yourself clothed and fed in exchange for creating stories and showing off 'magic tricks' that are no more than clever sleight of hand. But your luck runs out when a man with actual real,Godgiven magic arrives. He takes your place in the Grandmaster's favor, and you?You take your place under the real magical trickster, learning that no matter what story you spin, the one you're in now will only end when Loki wants it to.





	1. Falling Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two magicians, both alike in dignity,  
> In cruel Sakaar, where we lay our scene,  
> From ancient story break to new desire,  
> Where mortal blood makes immortal hands unclean.

Sakaar- land of trash and torment. That’s exactly what you would write on it’s tourism brochure. In a way, it was decent for being a literal planet that mostly consisted of various forms of refuse. For one thing, it stunk less than New York City on a hot muggy summer day by the bay. It also had a system to mitigate the trash that could decompose and that which would simple be broken, (a convoluted system, but a system none the less). Trash here though was very different than trash from earth.  
Earth’s trash never consisted of people, much less of alien odds and ends. Here, trash was a sort of all encompassing term for anything that came from one of the many gateways that surrounded the planet. Things forgotten, things cast out, things not wanted. It was not just the old, but the new. Left behinds, lost, abandoned, forsaken.  
Exiled.

You’d come by accident. A slip of chance that a walk down an old road would send you tumbling down a sheer ditch to avoid a car. A tumble that took you through a gateway, falling, crashing into the trash of Sakaar, with no idea what happened. Gateways, you later learned, were tricky things, they were sometimes random and spontaneous, other times fixed in location and destination. It just so happened that for you, it was one of the rare wild gateways that just cropped up here and there in the universe. By the time you landed in a trash heap, the gateway from earth had closed.  
Also a strange thing? Falling several hundred feet from an interstellar gateway didn’t kill you. Turned out that your atoms and particles and very being was not ‘whole’ until it made contact with a foreign surface. Aka: the trash. 

The trash heap you laid on until rag wearing creatures (vaguely humanoid) came to you, asking in less that an articulate fashion, if you were food or not. You were more confused, and when they came at you with weapons, you ran. Running- perhaps the one thing you were good at. You ran down the trash hill, through the grotesque metal arches to a city of scrap and avant-garde structures. They chased you down through roads, sending you in a terrorized state past aliens- beings you might count as monsters. You lost them eventually, ending up in the middle of a busy alien city, where you couldn’t understand a word and nothing looked even vaguely familiar, let alone human.  
You don’t remember much after that. Just a dark corner, holding yourself as you sank to your knees, shaking and fighting to breathe. It was too much, too fast. You couldn’t think and everything around you, the sights, the smells, the sounds, the very taste of the air was too much. It was alien, it was frightening. It left you in shock.

But shock gave way to fear which gave way to plans to find the logic. Find the rationalization. To untwist the convoluted mess that was around you. A quick disguise- stolen cloth of vibrant gold and violet, stars stitched into the pattern. You hid your face, part of your alien clothes, (alien to them anyway). You tried to find something you could understand, something to grasp. That was when you saw him. Human, he had no strange markings, not extra limbs or odd colored skin. Makeup you knew from a mile away. He saw you and you saw him. Blue eyes twinkled in the light as he called for someone. You understood him though, you heard your language on his lips and that was enough. No hesitation, you dashed to him, hope blossoming in your chest as he looked at your with a smile, laughing as others came to his side.

You dressed oddly, but not badly. You wore purple well. Tears down your face, you asked him where you were, what was going on. He did not seem shocked by the nature of your questions, nor, by how you were acting. His hand on your shoulder, he smiled wide, and that was when you made your first mistake. You trusted him too quickly.  
“I am the Grandmaster my dear, and this is Sakaar.” His blue eyes held a look you only knew from addicts on the street, who would call out to beg for money, who threatened harm in the same hand as begging for help. Madness and malice, the Grandmaster took your name from your shaking self, and said you would join him, see his tower, his world. A guest he called you, a pretty new guest. But the words echoed the same way the words of men echoed at bars and dimly lit clubs.  
Madness and malice, he was dangerous and he wanted something from you. Something you feared he would take, just as he took you to his home and would suffer none of your pleas for further explanation. You were given a room, ‘party clothes’ and ‘invited’ to join the Grandmaster at his party. There was no way to refuse. Crazed or not, he had offered you shelter, clothes, and would likely offer food. He was crazed and alien and you had no choice. He was the only ally you had, the only thing keeping you from the dangers that surrounded you on a world you didn’t know.

At the party he asked question after question, and again and again, you answered him honestly. You name, your race, (something had excited him about the fact you said you were human ‘mortal’, and ‘terrian’), you past, your skills, your talents. Your talents were to his words, ‘nothing new or exciting’. That was when he made the display. How he killed one of his guests without batting an eye, laughing as the coal black char of their corpse fell to the floor. The Grandmaster was crazed and murderous, and he wanted something new and exciting.

You thought of only one thing. A slight of hand, you pulled a coin from the dirty floor, having it ‘vanish’ without vanishing. You begged for time to prepare something for him. To show your thanks for his hospitality. He smiled his insane smile and said that if you could think of nothing he had a few suggestions on how to thank him

You left the party, escorted back to the room allotted to you.  
Two days later you preformed a ‘slight of hand show’ for the Grandmaster. Tricks and ‘magic’ you had taught yourself as a child now saving your life. The Grandmaster had laughed, and gave you a new name. A new name for your new life on Sakaar. Royal, for the color of the royal violet shawl you stole the day you met him and ‘bewitched’ him. 

It has been two years since you were named Royal. Not a soul on Sakaar uses the name you were once known as; it sounds strange now to your ears when you say it to yourself. To remind yourself of the home that you couldn’t find your way back too. Nothing left Sakaar. Days mixed, and often you wondered if it had really been two years. Two years to the date. You marked it in a little journal you kept, notes and memories of your life written down so you’d not forget. Two years and you looked at your name written on the page and felt wetness on your cheeks.  
You cried, as single glittering gold star fell from the heavens…

And landed in some trash.


	2. A King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fair is foul, and foul is fair:  
> Hover through the fog and filthy air.

New arrivals tended to get one of three reactions. Disinterest, (which could be good or bad depending on one’s survival skills), Excitement, (which if you had been captured, tended to mean you would be entertainment or ‘entertainment’), or Desire. It was never hard to figure out what desire meant where the Grandmaster was concerned. He was a simple man in that respect. Waking up after your two-year anniversary of becoming a human lost in space, the morning was filled with the sound of two things. A party upstairs which was easy to hear with a window open, but more importantly, whispers. The ‘unpaid staff’, (slaves), always kept tabs on who was new and who has in and out of favor and how to use what they knew to get by and not be killed over something a simple as the Grandmaster’s tea being lukewarm and not hot.

The woman who cleaned the rooms on the floor you lived on was talking in hushed tones as you rounded the corner, about to head up to what was no doubt a party for something trivial, but the Grandmaster liked it so therefore it would be celebrated. The woman stopped the conversation with the other ‘maid’ and looked at you a small smile on her face. She was a rather odd woman given a human’s expectation. Two extra arms that were thin and spidery, a long nose and spines that ran down the sides of her face. Not like an insect but more a reptile. Odd, that was how you’d come to see her, (after your initial fear of anything not human looking).  
“Buzz is that a man fell from a gateway the other day.” She tittered at you, voice raspy. “Hear he’s a handsome one, and a king to boot!” Her voice kept the rasp, but her look was clear. She expected a reaction from you.  
“Oh? A new guest? And royalty at that? I’m certain that the Grandmaster is most pleased.” You kept your voice level, not too excited, not too curious, not too dismissive. Emotions got used against you in public. Showing what you felt when your life demanded perfect docility was not an option. You had a part to play, one of the Grandmaster’s favored ‘friends’, (though thankfully not the more intimate kind).  
“Mhmm.” She hummed. “And between you and I miss-“ the look in her eye became downright malicious, “-I think you’re about to loose the one thing that kept you in favor.” Such was the nature of the ‘staf’. If you were not a slave, you were hated. You were an enemy. And for you, the fragile little mortal from Earth who could only do tricks and tell stories, making friends that were not outright seeking something from you was near impossible.   
Mostly, as the only thing you had to possibly offer was yourself, and you were not wanting to do that. Unless death was the only other option, you were not going to use sex as a currency. Tricks and tales suited you just fine.

Turning from the woman you entered the lift, noting in the back of your mind how she seemed to have only told you half of what she knew. Two years, and she’d always given you half secrets anyway.

The rift’s final stop at the top of the tower, you entered into the Grandmaster’s ‘audience chamber’. A.K.A where he sat in an overly lush chair, heard all the news and made really odd verdicts. Normally, people would be sitting at tables, drinking, eating, laughing. You tended to just eat breakfast before floating between circles, feeding your imagination with tidbits of things they spoke of. But this morning? This morning the Grandmaster was surrounded by many of his favorites, and you could see the back of a tall man in front of the Grandmaster himself.   
The new arrivals always did generate a bit of a buzz.

As you walked to a somewhat empty table you froze in place mid stride as your name rang out by one very loud voice that always demanded to be heard.  
“Oh Royal! Royal dear, come here- Yes now don’t be shy.” He was waving you over and you forced a small smile on your face nervousness and dread filling you. The Grandmaster seemed chuffed at your appearance, and when you reached him, he didn’t hesitate your grab you by the wrist and force you next to, (or rather in front of), the man you had never seen before. The new arrival. You didn’t get a good look at him before the voice of your semi-jailer began speaking once again.  
“Look at her, isn’t she cute?” Small blessings that the Grandmaster saw you more as a cute stray than a woman who could be forced to do many things she would hate for all her life. “Now, she does magic but oh- OH, my friend,” The Grandmaster’s emphasis on the word friend sent your alarm bells off. This newcomer, who now was very, very, close behind you to the point you could swear you could feel him was the man the maid from downstairs had hinted about? “Her magic is nothing compared to yours.” And there is was. The catch. The maid’s meaning. Fear spiked, and your heart began to race as you turned to look at your replacement.

Handsome- the maid’s words for once in her wretched life had never been truer. High cheekbones, a square jaw, elegant nose and a sultry smirk- all complimented by his pale complexion and dark hair. His eyes however are what made all those features come together. It was like his eyes held something in them that begged you to ask just what was hidden behind them. Bright green- so close to human- nothing like anything you had seen before, (and you after two years, had seen quite a bit).

“So this is your little Royal?” He reached up, grabbing your chin and with a sudden alarm you realized that this man was anything but human. His grip was steel, and as you gently tried to pull away, his grip only tightened- a threat. Not enough to give himself away to the Grandmaster or anyone watching, but the pressure and grip was real. His eyes held your own with an easy understanding. You were a weak, fragile mortal human, and he was able to kill you if he so wished.  
“She doesn’t look like royalty, but, perhaps with the right outfit-“ A tingling sensation swept over you and the man let your chin go, your eyes leaving his is frightened shame. And from his eyes your gazed went to your hands- now covered in fine soft silk gloves. Quickly you looked yourself over and found the gauzy and gaudy violet dress that had been provided for you, (courtesy of the Grandmaster and his insistence that you only wear violet and only dresses), was gone. The replacement was a rather beautiful gown, laced with gold threads and embroidered with flowers- roses perhaps? It felt soft and light, and when you touched it, it was real. 

“Much better don’t you think?” The man wasn’t asking you so much as the grandmaster, who was pulling at the dress with a look of pure delight.   
“Amazing, and oh my. Royal darling.” Blue eyes were alight with his madness and you felt ill. “You look absolutely ravishing. I could almost eat you up.” No thank you.  
You quickly managed to find your voice at the insinuation that now, after so long, now the grandmaster might insist you warm his bed, it made you react. “That would be atrocious table manners.” 

Both men, and the other favored members of the grandmaster’s could went silent, before a laugh shattered the second of eerie calm.  
“Oh she is a delight!” The man who had magicked the dress took hold of your arm, spinning you to face him. “While it is quite rude to eat one’s guests, it’s equally rude not to thank someone for a gift.” He was smiling, but unlike the Grandmaster’s smile that foretold chaos and insanity, this man’s smile was predatory. And again, fear spurred you to react without thinking.  
“Demanding thanks for a gift is rather shallow-“  
“Is it now?”  
“-It is. But it very lovely. I will write you a proper card later.” The man’s smile broke to a wide grin, as whatever in your words had seemed to set something off.

“You didn’t tell me she had fire.” The man’s grip on your arm was just like the one on your jaw. Don’t struggle, don’t try to escape. You were his to control for now.  
“Royal, don’t be rude now.” The Grandmaster’s chiding made you look at him, silently begging him not to do what you knew would come. “Be polite and entertain our new guest.” He waved you off and the man pulled your arm, dragging you away from the one being who could spar you suffering so long as you stayed in his favor.

It happened so fast. It was too much- you didn’t even realize you were across the room until roughly, the man pulled you into his lap, holding you like an oversized pet. Immediately, you struggled to right yourself, to get out of his lap and away. But his grip was steel, and your fear was the poison in your veins that left you weak.   
“Now now little Royal.” His voice was dark and cold now, a hushed whisper that ghosted on the back of your neck while he pulled you tighter to his body.  
“You shouldn’t run from real royalty.” You gave up, limply obeying his hands, sinking into his lap and knowing that so long as you endured, you might be able to escape this, might be able to think of a way to gain back the Grandmaster’s favor. But-  
“Who are you then?” You asked him, afraid to look back. You didn’t get a choice though, his hand gently pushing your face so he could stare you down with his too bright eyes.  
“I am King Loki of Asgard, and unless I’m mistaken, it’s your job to entertain me.” His mouth was so close, you could feel his warm breath, smell wine on his lips. 

“So be a good girl, and show me your magic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm interested in a beta if someone would like to help.


	3. Oath Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Sblood, but you will not hear me:  
> If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me.

His breath smelled of wine, while the rest of him smelled like sea air- a scent you hadn’t experienced since you’d been on Sakaar. Part of you wanted to sink further into his hold, press your nose to him and just breath the scent that reminded you of home. But the sane part, the logical part, the part screaming in fear and survival instinct told you to be complacent, to do what he said and then get away. He wanted you to show him your ‘magic’. It seemed a joke almost, given that you were literally wearing a direct product of his own magic.

“I-“ A finger to your lips he silenced you and smiled when you clammed up and leaned back from the touch.  
“Don’t explain, just show me.” You wiggled in your spot, earning an even darker grin from him. “As much as I do enjoy you moving about in my lap, please refrain. Unless of course, your magic is better suited for a more intimate setting?” His tone told you he was joking, but the words were ice water. Freezing, you panicked. You looked at him and stared at the man, king, who now very literally had your life in his hands. If not a death by failing the Grandmaster to entertain this Loki, or, by the man himself who had very easily shown you what you guessed was a fraction of his raw strength when he held you. His eyes burned in their intensity, seeking (no, you thought, hunting), for something. As you stared and he stared back, you failed to feel his hand go down, grabbing you thigh until too late. He squeezed, and jolt of pain shot up you leg, making you flinch and let out a pained gasp.  
“Show me your magic princess.” His words were heavy, demanding and threatening with his grip. With shaking hands, you reached into your top, pulling out a small gold coin. At least the coin had remained intact in your bra after that magic outfit change. Spinning the coin in hand, you showed it to him, flicking it about before reaching, gently removing his hand from your thigh and instead guiding it to face up, palm empty. Until you placed the coin in his hold.  
“Any reason I am holding this princess?” He was cocky and arrogant, spinning it in his own fingers as you removed the gloves he’d put on you. Your voice shook a bit, but the words still came out.  
“People have to confirm the reality first in order to believe in can be broken.” He made a small hum, opening his hand and letting you take the coin back.

You had it ‘vanish’ from your hand as you did so. Showing it off, Loki hummed once more. “Is that it?” You frowned and he must have seen your annoyance at his dismissiveness because his smile twitched and he gave you a rather knowing look.  
“That’s just- I am better with cards. And time to prepare.” He gave a small nod, seeming to consent to the fact you had been rather thrown into the whole situation.  
“Your magic is slight of hand. Not the most talented, but not bad. The coin was sitting in your other hand however-“ The metal in your hand was gone, and in nothing sort of a mockery of your own actions, he opened his palm to show you the stolen coin, “-the real thing has a bit most substance.” Embarrassment came then, along with anger and shame. He was making fun of one of the things that had kept you alive-  
“But have you ever used those hands for more criminal purposes?” Loki had leaned in his words spoken under his breath, secretive.  
“No.” Your reply a sudden whisper wondering why he’d ask such a thing. Then he pulled back, eyes alight with what you could only describe as pure satisfaction.  
“For a Midgardian, you’re awful ignorant so allow me to educate you princess.” That name, ‘midgardian’. You’d heard it before but from where?  
“I am the God of Lies, and you should really try to be more convincing if you plan on lying to me.” God of- 

Oh no.  
No.  
Loki, the ‘god’ who’d come to earth, seeking to rule it, brother of the avenger Thor; Loki, the one who nearly managed to level Ney York?  
“Ah, and there it is, the sweet princess realizes I’m the king who would rule your kind.” You looked up at him, heart thundering. “Or would if I still wanted to. Now, while you certainly don’t trust me-“  
“I don’t.” Your sudden response amused him yet he went on.  
“-I think I am the only being on this planet that you even recognize, aren’t I?” Your face must have given you away, because he was very hands-y once more, moving you to face him in a more ‘comfortable’ position and he rans a hand through your hair, as if comforting. “It’s not hard to see that you don’t belong here. Tell me princess, how long have you been playing at magic and placating the Grandmaster?”  
Don’t lie to a God of Lies. “Two years.”  
His eyes widened just a bit before a laughter left him, his body shaking and you gripped his shirt to remain stable. “Two years- for such a weak and fragile thing, you might have a bit of magic to have managed to survive this long.” His hand ran up and down your spine now, lazily tracing patterns at the base before snaking up. It was soothing, frighteningly so.  
“One more question Royal,” Why use your name now? “Do you want to escape Sakaar?” It was a trap, it had to be a trap. The Grandmaster was setting you up wasn’t he? But if it wasn’t-  
You looked away, your hands that had gripped his shirt loose, you gave him your answer.  
“No, I love Sakaar.” Your fingers traced letters in his chest, praying he could understand, that he was as he claimed. A god of Lies. You wanted to have him see through the well rehearsed lie. To hear the wish that you’d do anything to leave this place.

His lips twitched again, and he reached up, taking your hand in his; rubbing knuckles while his other hand pet your spine, it was soothing, even while your heart was pounding as the knowledge a mass killer had you in his lap.  
“If I grant your wish, will you do everything I say?” He couldn’t know-  
“What wish?” Play dumb, play innocent, that was what helped keep you alive this far. Loki leaned in, his lips against your neck while you smartly, remained still.  
“I’ll take you to where you really belong little princess, but you must swear to me.” His face pulled back and when you saw his eyes, there was something in them, something dark and old and powerful.  
“Swear you will submit to me and do everything I say, and I’ll do what no one else can for you.” Freedom. He was offering you freedom.  
You gaze flashed to the Grandmaster, talking to his entourage and Loki’s hand dropped your own, grabbing your chin. A reminder of his strength as he forced you to look at him.  
“Swear it sweet princess, because in exactly two minutes my silencing spell will end, and they’ll hear everything we’re saying.” Panic raced. A spell? He had been courting what was considered treason for someone in your position.

Did you believe a God of Lies? Did you dare risk it on a man who once wanted to become a King of Earth? A man who’s eyes were no longer that unearthly green but a near pitch black?

“I swear.” Time seemed to freeze in place while he let out a sigh of contentment.  
“It’s a deal then.” You didn’t feel it at first, the weight of the words until you felt it in your chest. It was like drowning, but being frozen, you felt no pain, just pressure, an all encompassing pressure and Loki’s eyes-  
His eyes were blown, and his smile was knowing. You realized it then. You’d made a mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake.

“Grandmaster!” Loki turned and called out to the ‘host’, who was blissfully unaware of all that had transpired.  
“I fear that I need a more private show from the sweet princess you have here.” You were a fool, a wishful, naive blind fool.  
“Just don’t break her friend! I do like having her around.” The Grandmaster had given his blessing. You looked at the God who smiled so sickly sweet at you. The God you without batting an eyelash, lifted you in his arms and stood. The God who’s eyes spoke of darkness and chaos.

“Shall we my dear?” He was carrying you out the room, to the lift. You were too shocked, to engulfed in whatever magic he’d placed on you when you swore yourself to him. As he looked down, you silently begged now for an explanation, an understanding. But the God eyed you like a prize. Like a conquest.  
“You’ll enjoy serving me.” Loki’s voice was seductive, and you knew he had magic working with his words as you felt yourself giving into how his hand under you began to grope your rear.  
“After all, so long as we’re on Sakaar, you are mine.”


	4. Submission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look, where they come:  
> Take but good note, and you shall see in him.  
> The triple pillar of the world transform'd  
> Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see.

He carried you to the lift and you remained still and compliant, trying to think of a way out of the situation. A megalomaniac had demanded you submit yourself to him and in exchange, he’d get you home. But your mind raced to what he meant. He said he didn’t want to rule earth, but you got the feeling he also probably held no good will to it either. Plus, his brother was an Avenger. If he popped back on earth with you in tow, you doubted the God of Thunder was going to let his crazy sibling escape, (again apparently). Not to mention, showing up on earth after two years missing and in the company of a war criminal alien was not likely going to help you live a long life. More you’d probably be considered an accomplice to whatever anyone wanted. Trump charges were a thing and boy, you did not trust the international community when it came to incarceration.

While your mind was spinning out of control, frantic with fear and worry, Loki held you in his arms, humming something while the lift went up. To him, you presented a number of opportunities. For one thing, a pretty mortal pet to tease and toy with would keep him amused for days. Not to mention, if the mortal loving oaf showed up to drag him back to Asgard, he’d have a delightful bargaining chip, (even if hostage holding was rather beneath him). He also knew that with the right training those quick hands would be very useful in getting what he wanted. A clever and skilled thrall was really, the best thing he could have asked for.  
And you just happened to end up right in his arms.

A chime in the lift made you jump, hand grabbing Loki’s shirt as you reached your destination. It was the floor reserved for the Grandmaster’s most favored. You’d been here when you first arrived, but had quickly, and happily, moved to his ‘regulars’ floor a while after. Your eyes scanned the rooms, the dread and fear reaching a zenith as Loki stopped by a gold and blue door, tapping it with his foot so it opened.  
The room’s opulence took you by surprise. Gold against dark leathers, marble floor- a room fit for a king.  
“Do you like it?” His voice was please, excited almost.  
“I found the previous décor to be a bit too contrasting to my liking, so I had it changed. Much more fitting for a man of my station.” He walked over to a couch, setting you down in a rather gentle and even gentlemanly fashion. “Well?” He asked, green eyes boring into your own before you realized he was being serious.  
“It’s very-“ How did you tell him you thought it was simply indulgent to the point of flamboyant? “It’s very kingly.” He pulled away laughing, making his way to what looked like a wet bar.  
“You’re polite, and almost a good liar, I’ll give you that.” He pulled out two martini glasses, followed by a shaker and what you could only guess was something very, very strong. You may not be a drinker, but even you knew- if it was in a cocktail, it was guaranteed to get you shit faced. Human metabolism compared to aliens was really bad as far as alcohol went.   
“Do you prefer silk or lace?” You kept getting lost in thought, and he kept drawing you back with his voice.  
“Pardon?” Loki rolled his eyes and coupled it with a sigh of exasperation.  
“Please try to keep up. Silk or lace, which material do you prefer?” You gave him a quizzical gaze and he replied with one of drawn patience. Answer the question was the silent demand in the air.  
“Silk. It’s softer, and a lot more durable.” His lips upturned to that smirk of a secret he’d not tell.

“Why do you ask?” His smirk only grew at your question while he mixed the liquors he’d procured in the shaker.  
“Rule one. I ask questions and you answer them not the other way around.” The strainer put over the shaker, he poured the drinks. Picking them up he started walking back to you.  
“But for today, given the circumstances, I’ll humor you. I asked because if I have to buy you new outfits, I’d at the very least like to know what your prefer.”  
“I prefer pants.” Again, an impulsive reply, he hovered next to you drinks in the air.   
“You’ll wear a dress or you’ll wear nothing at all.” He set the drink in front of you, inviting.  
“That’s what the Grandmaster told me when I asked him.” You remarked bitterly, taking the drink in hand.  
“And I rather like having a living thrall. The undead from my experience make poor conversationalists.” You didn’t want to know what experience he had with the undead. He sipped his drink, and you swirled yours in hand. The room, the more you looked at it reminded you of those fancy castles in Europe. Overly ornate for no rhyme or reason.   
_Wait._

“You just arrived today!” Your sudden alarm didn’t faze Loki, who hummed nonchalant and sipped his drink some more.  
“How did you redecorate already?” His face turned, and an amused twinkle was in his eyes. Reaching out with his free hand, he brushed your shoulder, and the dress he’d put on you changed again, becoming sheer and removing a fair bit of coverage.  
You squealed in alarm and flung yourself off the couch and away from him, hiding behind it while trying to cover your modesty. Loki just laughed.   
“How do you think princess? And please, I’m going to see everything eventually anyway.” He said, not even looking your way.  
“You’re a pervert.”  
“And so much more.” His words took on a husky note, and you felt the coolness of the room now. More, you body reacted to it, gooseflesh on your arms and legs- and your nipples deciding in that glorious moment to create the most obvious little peaks through your bra and the gown. “Come back to me my princess, I’d hate to see your drink go to waste.” Hadn’t you tossed it in your shock? Peering over the couch you saw it on the table, as if it had never been touched.  
“Princess-“ He turned catching you gaze. “Come.”

You knew he was crazy, and he could kill you but so far, he hadn’t forced you to do anything. Not yet anyway. Been lewd while you sat in his lap, and the new sheer dress but-  
“You won’t-“ You hesitated, wondering if he’d be insulted, “You won’t force me will you?” Something flashed in his face. Confusion? It left quickly as he went back to contemplating whatever else was on his mind.  
“Not right now. I’d prefer to see you on your knees begging for it, but we can’t always have immediate gratification can we?” That hardly instilled confidence but refusal now was out of the question. Gingerly, you circled back around, arms over your chest to hide the very obvious effect the cold air had on you.  
“I’m not a whore.”  
“So I heard. The Grandmaster remarked how you’re one of the only ones who doesn’t join him or his friends on their little pleasure parties.” Your face bloomed red as he finished off his drink. “My benefit then. I’m not fond of sharing.” He expected sex but-

You picked up the drink. If he planned to fuck you, you could at least be hammered and not have to live with the fact you’d break your promise. That you wouldn’t trade sex for favors.   
“So that’s what you want then? I sleep with you, you help me get home.” Loki turned his body, facing you- slowly, he ran his eyes over your form and while you shifted and blushed in nervousness and fear? You lowered your arms, exposing your breasts to his view.  
“Sleep with me, among other things. Our escape won’t be quick, such things take time. And, after two years, I’m certain you have more than enough experience and knowledge to help with that.” The shame came then as you downed the drink in one furious swallow. Two years you’d tried in secret, and in two years, you’d failed each attempt.  
“Why did you offer it? To help me?” His hand reached out, plucking the empty glass from your hands and setting it down.  
“I may be a god and know magic, but I’m not able to do everything. I need someone who knows their way around, someone who can go where I cannot, do what I cannot.” He leaned in, lips brushing over your neck as he laid a kiss over your pulse. “You have no other option than me if you want to escape alive, and you need someone to keep you from the Grandmaster’s ire. I can use anyone, but you have motivation, you have a reason to obey me.” His kiss ran up to you ear.

“I’ll give you true freedom, and you’ll do anything for it, won’t you?” His hand ghosted over your thigh and to your own shame, you felt a spark of desire there. He was handsome. Dangerous, deadly, possibly insane, but he was handsome, and you’d refused everyone for two years. Touch starved barely covered how you felt.  
“Yes.” You answered him softly tears welling up. “Master.”   
Loki groaned into your neck. “Clever woman. But if you really want to entice me, there is something else you can call me.” His hand left your thigh, slowly pulling up the dress.  
“My King?” Your voice hitched as bare finger touched your heated skin. You didn’t want to do this.  
“Yes my princess?” Loki was cooing in your ear as you leaning into him, all too aware how much you were fighting.  
“Will you be-“ You started shaking. You were going to do this, really going to do this, “-will you be gentle?” His reply was a hum into your skin, dress now gathered at your thighs. You’ve have to stand to remove it.  
“Not always. There will be times when I am rough, even cruel.” You wish he could have lived up to his name and lied to you. “But today, I will be. A gift to you.” He kissed you again, lips over your pulse- this time the press of teeth making your squirm.

“Do you want this my princess?” Loki pulled back and grabbed your chin softly making you face him. “Do you want freedom so badly you will abandon all morals, all inhibitions, all your ideals, and give yourself to me? If your freedom worth so much?” You exhaled in a shuddering sigh, eyes locking to his own green ones.  
“I do.” You leaned forward, catching his lips with your own. The kiss was soft, almost loving in the tenderness he allowed you. “I’ll do anything.” The admission brought shame but also conviction. You would be free one day. You had to, you didn’t want to die here, alone, afraid and perhaps even a slave.  
Loki’s smile was cruel and predatory as he pushed you back into the couch, crawling over you. Under him, dark hair framing his pale face and eyes so vivid in color, he looked every inch the dark angel come to drag you to hell.  
And the worst park, was that you were going to let him.


	5. Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?  
> What tributaries follow him to Rome,  
> To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels?

He remained above, his eyes boring into your own as you squirmed both under his gaze and under his body. No matter what you wanted, this was the price you’d have to pay. To sleep with a man who called himself a god. To his credit, Loki did not suddenly rip off your dress and ravage you. Rather, he took his time, one arm propping him up, the other tugging your dress up, hinting to lift your body so it might be removed.  
You took the hint, lifting your hips as he pulled the sheer gown up and over you body, the pair of you slowly, methodically removing the garment. Once it was off, you felt that insecurity welling up, the fear taking hold. Your face turned from him but like a viper’s strike his hand was on your chin, pulling you back.  
“You are to watch me as I take you.” He said, the tone making the fear meld with something else. “I want to see your face as you come apart.” Your lips parted with a soft sigh as you whispered you understanding to him.  
“Yes your majesty.” It must have been the right thing to say as Loki’s entire form shuddered, and he let your face go. His face lowered, you expected him to tell you something wicked and dark, threatening perhaps. But Loki was indeed, a trickster, his action not to speak but kiss. Soft, tender and gentle, he pried open your mouth with his clever tongue, exploring but not pushing. It was a lover’s kiss, to soften, endear one to another. It was a distraction because as soon as your lips parted, you became aware how he a pulled your panties down, bunching them at your knees.

Red hot embarrassment filled your cheeks and you wiggled, kicking them off. Loki’s face was either amused or pleased by the action, you couldn’t tell. But you wished to make this painless and quick. The sooner he got off, the sooner you’d be able to think of how you’d escape Sakaar. Shifting you gently pushed at his chest hoping he’d understand your want to sit up. Thankfully, Loki did, pulling back to rest on his ‘side’ of the couch while you got up, reaching behind to remove your bra.  
You looked at his face while you did it, shame and embarrassed you felt, you wouldn’t cower or look away. You could do this, you could show him how far you’d go. Your breasts lifted with each breath, and his eyes moved ever so slightly with each rise and fall. He looked like a human man then, his eyes dark and lusty, his lips parted as he drank in your body. But lust fell way to wickedness as he reached out to brush your hair from your face.  
“My sweet little mortal.” A finger ran down your ear to you neck, goosebumps left in it’s wake. His touch went further, reaching a nipple and circling it lazily. Touch starved, traitorously aroused, you arched into him. “How long has it been since you felt satisfaction?” Your blush must have intensified as Loki emitted a dark chuckle from the back of his throat.  
“Over two years your majesty.” The chuckle ended with a knowing smile. He found your celibate nature to be appealing no doubt.  
“Pet, do you enjoy-“ he paused, “-perversions?” You blinked, not sure what he meant. “Things like wax, ropes, whips, toys?” His words became more lusty, his tone betraying what he thought of such things. “Would you enjoy me claiming every hole you had? Making you suffer for your pleasure?” You whimpered as he pinched your nipple, a shake traveling through your form. Heat and wetness began to form between your thighs, and you knew that if you moved, he might notice.

“I-“  
“Tell me what makes you writhe my pet, tell your master how to reward you.”  
“I want it.” Your breath was heavy and you gave in. He was dangerous, but his touch was tantalizing, alluring and promising. “I want whatever you give me.” He reached forward, pulling you flush to his body.  
“And if it pleases me to fuck you against your will?” You whimpered, but nodded. Loki’s laughter was cruel before he kissed you again. That same gentle softness that contrasted so deeply to his words.

“Today, we will spend ourselves enjoying each other, learning how to please one another.” He stood, leaving you nude on his couch, aroused and afraid. His walk to another door was confident, and you suddenly saw something you missed before.  
He walked like he was without fear, that he was invincible, that he was utterly in control. You’d been too afraid to see it before. Loki did walk like a king, like royalty.  
A wave of his hand signaled you to follow, and shyly, you did.  
“I promise you this my sweet princess, every time I fuck you, you will come for me. You will find pleasure and release, even if you do not want it.” It was a threat, a promise that he would rape you, yet the idea of being forced by him, dominated by him, filled a dark spot in your heart. If he was half as good as he made himself out to be, perhaps this would not be too terrible.

The bedroom was like many of those on Sakaar, a bed large enough for several people, and not much else. Sure, it was like the main room, in his style, but the bed made you hesitate. You were really going to do this. You really going to fuck a god.  
“Pet.” He held his hand out to you and you took it, letting him lead your naked body to the side of his bed. “You’re doing well, I have expected you to scream or run by now. Most humans would.”  
“I’m not most humans.” You said back, sharper than intended.  
“No.” He said, breathy, “You’re willing to sacrifice yourself on my altar. You’re going to be mine, and that makes you exceptional.” He stalked to you, making you crawl backwards on the bed. It was a game of cat and mouse, only as soon as the cat caught you, his clothes vanished and you felt him above you, body propped up by pillows.  
“Look at you.” He bent, kissing the tip of your nose teasingly. “So helpless, so willing and afraid. I admit, there is something utterly delightful in knowing you’ll do whatever I demand.” His gaze went down and with a tap of his fingers, you took the wordless instruction and parted you legs. Let it be over quick you thought. But Loki had other plans. He grabbed you hard harshly, yanking it to his cock. 

You knew he’d been naked, but hadn’t looked; you’d been afraid to. But now, his cock was in your hand and you could feel the heft and girth. You could feel the heat from it as it throbbed and twitched.  
“Are you afraid?” He was smug and you looked him in the eye, fighting down your want to look and the want to scramble from him. Instead, you gathered your courage and stroked him, thinking on how the skin shifted- uncut, you fingered the foreskin and his slit, earning you an appreciative moan.  
“So brazen.” Loki crooned at you his hand on the side of your face as he kissed you once more. Your hand slowed as you gave in to the kiss. It was hard to anticipate what he’d want. He was an alien with god like strength and no doubt stamina. Speaking of which-

“You’re not going to break my hips are you?” Your words were shaky, and for a moment as Loki pulled back, you could swear he didn’t understand.  
“I can control my strength, even so, a simple spell will prevent anything detrimental.” He grinned. “Afraid I’d fuck you to death?” You mistakenly answered him, voice a mere squeak with an affirmative ‘yes’. His laughter was rich as he threw his head back. In fact, his whole body shook with his laughter and you shifted under him uncomfortably.  
“I won’t break you, nor will I impregnate you. I have no plans to remove your usefulness to me.” His hand caressed your face and you looked to the side. “You have things I want, things I need. So long as you have purpose to me, I will promise, nothing bad will happen.” It was a lie. A simple, bold faced lie and yet it made a spring of hope well inside your chest. You wanted to believe him so badly. To think the lie truth so you could sleep easy. But sleep would come later, it was barely reaching mid-morning, and your soon to be lover had no plans for rest. Not until he had his way with you.

Loki seemed fine talking, kissing, petting. He wasn’t rushing anything. His hands were soothing you, and you knew this was to help ease you into it, relax you. But you knew you’d need more than a calm mind to fuck the god above you. Timidly, your hand reached down again, finding his shaft still slick and hard. Kitten licks to his chin, moving to his neck, you stroked him and threaded fingers in his hair with your free hand. The man moaned again, bucking into your grasp and rolling his hips with each pass of your hand. You could feel the precum gathering on your hand, and you wondered how different this might be from a normal man. How different he might be.

Bold, curious, you stopped your hand job, pulling the slick palm to your mouth, tongue experimentally tasting him without direct contact. You had never considered sperm or pre to have a flavor. Men didn’t have a ‘flavor’ to you. But as the taste of him went over your taste buds, you moaned. The salty tang of him was heady, and you knew this was something that was uniquely him. You lapped away at the sticky fluid on your hand, moaning, eye closed as you savored his flavor.  
When you opened you eyes, Loki’s expression was of dark hedonism. You didn’t think he’d be so pleased or aroused by the action. You had simply been curious if an Asgardian tasted like a human. But he didn’t. He tasted better. 

“Two years you said?” His voice had taken a heavy timber that went right between your legs. You nodded, watching lips part and his tongue flick out to moisten them. “Princess, if you enjoyed that, you will love what I plan to do to you later.” 

Without any warning, he was kissing you and tugging your body down the bed, lining himself with you. Hot wet cock pressed against your inner thigh and you gasped in surprise. He was larger than an average man and you’d not had sex in years- he didn’t plan on just forcing his way in did he? Surely, you reasoned, he wasn’t so stupid to think a woman could just take any dick at any time?

You got your answer as finger slipped between your legs, flicking over your pearl. You gasped into his mouth as Loki chuckled, whispering something you couldn’t understand in your ear, a warm sensation running through you body before it rested just where you wish it happen. Your clit. As if knowing, Loki’s finger rubbing the bump, and you moaned loudly into his ear as his touch stimulated you far more than what even you knew was normal.  
“What-“  
“A mild sensitivity spell. I did say I would make you come apart didn’t I?” You gasped as the finger slipped inside of you; his thumb maintained the attention to your clit while his finger stroked your slick heated walls.  
“Ah- Ah-“ Your panting was heavy as he leaned down into your neck, kisses and nips of his teeth on your neck driving you further towards that warm pulsing pleasure. The second finger had your hips arching up to meet him, your entire body feeling hyper sensitive. The two fingers pumped at your hole, pushing at your opening, encouraging the unused muscles to stretch. Loki was taking him time to prepare you and you were helpless to how easily he was drawing you closer and closer to an orgasm. Soon his name left your mouth in a heated whisper, and Loki pulled his face from you neck long enough to make a demand.  
“Louder.” He shoved a third finger into you, the cry that left you one of pure bliss. He was stretching you wide, and you felt him pumping them expertly, brushing your g-spot while his thumb unrelentingly stimulated your clit. 

You grabbed his hair, wanting something to pull, your fingers in his back not enough. You were so close, so hot and wet and you could hear his fingers fucking you to oblivion. You just needed something more, something to force you over the edge of pleasure and into blissful oblivion. Loki was watching your face and you kept eye contact, shame and fear and all other hesitations gone, your thoughts only on the way his fingers played inside of you, how good they felt, how much you wanted more.

Loki sucked in a breath, and in one word you felt your sense of reality shatter.  
“Come.” You screamed his name as your hips lifted off the bed, desperate to ride his fingers as your orgasm shook your entire frame. Two years of only timid touches to yourself. Two years of emptiness. Two years of lonely nights and days. Two years of finding bliss only on your own hands.  
All of it shattered by the god who looked down on you, face an expression of pure joy. Your hands in his hair you gripped the black strands tightly, and before you control yourself, you pulled his face down, kissing him with all the passion and lust you had.

The kiss was hot and messy. Your tongue slipped into his mouth and he played with it in turn. You moaned and he swallowed it down. Letting go, you whimpered as his thumb and fingers kept going, kept fucking you through the orgasm. You wanted more than fingers. You wanted satisfaction, you wanted relief. You wanted him. You wanted a god.

“Please.” You begged him, tears in the corners of your eyes as you felt the second orgasm coming quickly. Your pleas became your chant wanting him to fuck you, to fill you up. But he just smiled, his fingers working harder, faster. Your second orgasm was just as strong as the first, and your scream echoed in your own ears as you thrashed and writhed under him, desperate to escape his hands, to have his cock.

Shaking, panting, you gasp and shudder as you feel his fingers pull out of you, dragging them up your body and leaving a trail of your femcum on your skin. Loki brings his soaked hand to his lips, licking off your juices with casual interest.  
“A bit sharp, not sweet at all.” He comments but you’re too far gone to care. “We’ll have to change your diet accordingly.” His words register, but what your brain focuses on is the hot throbbing cock pressed against your thigh. You want it, you want true satisfaction, true release.  
“Loki-“ You whimper, “-please.” You need something anything to just let go, to just have this moment of nothingness that sex could offer. No fear, no thinking, just being fucked into oblivion.  
“Please what my pet?” The green in his eyes are bright, and you can feel something churn inside you, hungry. Wanting.  
“Fuck me.” You kiss him in supplication, and in response?

Loki thrusts into you, and you scream his name.


	6. Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So soon was she along as he was down,  
> Each leaning on their elbows and their hips:  
> Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he frown,  
> And 'gins to chide, but soon she stops his lips;  
> And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken,  
> 'If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open.'

You cling to him as if he is the only thing keeping you alive. In your hands, you feel his hair slide and brush over skin, you feel the warmth of blood on your fingertips as you nails dig into his shoulders and upper back. His hot breath is against your face, panting, eye otherworldly bright and vivid. Between your thighs, he connects himself to you, and you feel each beat of his heart through your walls, making your own heart race. He’s not moving, letting you ride out the orgasm from his intrusion while your inner walls flutter and attempt to milk him of cum he had yet to offer. You body craves it, wants it- the feeling of not only being stuffed full of his cock, but to be filled with him. It’s a dark primal need you haven’t felt in years, and it draws out as strained whimper as you shake under him, your body moving without you wanting it to.

“So wet for me. So tight-“ He groans out the word, shifting his arms so he can suck on the skin of you collar bone and neck. “-just like that pet.” His moan is deep as you lift your hips up, taking the last inch of his cock into your body. You stay like that, legs wrapped around him, your walls fluttering around his cock as the pair you try to regain control.   
But Loki never lost control to begin with. Slowly, he lifts his hips away from you and you keen as each vein and throb of his cock sends you further into your blissed out euphoria. He draws it out, agonizing you until you feel the head of him tease at your entrance, threatening to pull out. A look at him, desperate, and he give you want you cannot ask for. His thrust is hard and determined, his length vanishing back into you as you scream his name. He does it again. Slowly drawing out almost completely before sinking in to the hilt.

The wet sound of your cunt gushing around him is pure pornography, and he relishes in it. Rotating his hips so his he brushes over your g-spot, each movement serves to make you cry out, moans and gasps punctuated by his name. His own mouth is busy at you neck, sucking hard on skin to the point you feel pain, but each time you do, his thrusts erase it. He is playing your body like harp, plucking the strings of sin you make you sing for him. His own expression is one of cruel pleasure, as if tormenting you sexually is his own way of gratification. Loki’s hand eventually grab your own, forcing them above your head so you cannot touch him, so you cannot pull him closer.   
“Are you close princess?” He asks, hips beginning to quicken their pace. “Will you scream your god’s name as he gives you what you want?” He isn’t a god, not your god. But oh, as his cock rubs over your g-spot you want him to be. You would bow to him, worship him, so long as this was what he’d give you in return.   
“Ye-Yes.” You gasp in his ear as he lowers himself kissing your chin before finding you mouth. The lovers kiss doesn’t match the way he thrusts, so hard and deep, as if he wanted to break you. “My god.” You say his name, and now, you call him your god. His reward is immediate, finger snaking between your bodies to flick over your clit harshly, and without warning your body crashes in upon itself, cunt squeezing him tightly, begging for his seed.

“Good girl.” His praise rings in your ears as you scream, yet no sound leaves your throat. He feels so good, do thick and hot and hard. Hard after you’ve come on his cock twice now. Maybe he is a god, maybe he truly will use you to the point you will die from pleasure. Your eyelids flutter to stay open as you feel him pull out, letting go of your hands to lean back and admire your wrecked form.  
“Beautiful.” His praise is said breathlessly, as if he really means it. “I would have you painted like this. Spent, flush with pleasure and your wet cunt gaping, begging to be filled.” You remain on the bed, shaking, panting, trying to catch your breath.

“I wonder if you’ll even be able to take all of it.” It’s a whisper to himself that you catch and suddenly, you feel something probing at your rear. A tiny part of you is alarmed, afraid. But whatever it is, it slips in without much resistance, your own femcum having soaked your thighs and dripped down to the bed. A tap and your mind expodes once more, the pleasure from a place you never knew could feel pleasure.  
“Such a good girl,” Loki croons, “this is the first toy you’ll take. Eventually, we’ll work you up to my size but for now, this will suit nicely.” Another tap to the toy and your hips jerk up only to feel his hand cup your mons. 

Extra sensitive, you whimper as his finger slips into your slick channel, pushing against the toy through your inner walls. It feel strange and new but so good. His thumb joins the finger, giving attention to your abused and sore clit. It’s almost painful but not enough to hurt. You find it drawing out your pleasure once more. It is too much though, and you weakly try to push at Loki’s hand, only for him to pin your wrists down again.  
“No, I want you screaming.” His voice is dark, and you see sadism in his eyes. He will make you cum, even when you don’t want to. His finger is quickly joined by two more, thumb continuing it’s brutal assault on your red swollen clit. Loki just smiles as you whimper and while his name, begging for him to stop; it’s too much you tell him, you can’t take it.   
“You wanted whatever I gave you.” His fingers crook inside of you, and you know your body is close for the fifth time. “And I’m going to make you enjoy it.” 

The pain explodes behind your eyes as he bites down on your shoulder, your cunt clamping down on his hands as you cum to the point you can feel your juices running down your ass. Screaming his name, he moans into your neck, the metallic smell of blood in the air and the warm wetness of saliva and blood running down your shoulder.

It hurts so much, yet his hands won’t stop, they’re still fucking you, still driving you insane. As Loki lets your shoulder go, he lifts his face, red running down his chin and you scream his name as a pinch to your clit makes you cum again so quickly. His eyes are bright red now, and he kisses you, the taste of blood, your blood, filling your mouth.   
You love it.

You love the way he kisses you with such ferocity, with such a desire and passion. You don’t feel him spreading your legs until he impales you on his cock again, your walls desperate now, trying to milk him and your body is thrown into on continuous orgasm. The sounds of sex are all around you, from the wet squelch of his cock plundering your cunt, to his deep moans, to you high screams of his name.  
It comes suddenly, his roar as he sinks into you, cock at the hilt and the first waves of hot sperm are sent into your abused body. You manage to pry off his hands, grabbing him by the shoulders as you thrust back into him, every beat of your heart letting you feel each wave of his cum filling you up. 

Loki is moaning into your ear, lifting your hip to stop the inevitable. Thick sticky globs of cum trickle out, and you shake as Loki remains inside of you.   
“Take all of it mortal.” His voice is ragged. “Take your god’s spend.” You want it, and as Loki’s cock slows it’s pulsing release, you sigh as he pulls out. Immediately as his cock comes out entirely, you can feel the sudden gush of fluid escaping you, and crying out in alarm, you reach down, plugging your hole with your finger.

“Princess.“ Loki moans, and suddenly, you feel something pushing at your fingers, something inorganic. “Let me.” He tugs your fingers away, and you feel another toy slip into you, plugging his sperm in your body. The toy in your ass remains as Loki looks down at you once more.

“Sweet Royal.” He reaches down to cup your face. Looking down his body, you see his cock still half hard, coated in his own cum and your feminine juices. “I am your god.” His free hand begins to stroke himself, and with dawning horror, you realize he is not yet satisfied. “I am your king.” Crawling to you side, he lays down, cock on proud display. “Your master.”

In full view, he is more than impressive. He is an ideal, an Adonis given flesh and you tremble at the knowledge he filled you with the organ he now was bringing back to it’s fully aroused state.   
“Now worship me.” His command is dark and tired, sore, shaking you might be, something in his words makes all the pain, all the agony, vanish. You want this. You want him.  
“Yes.” You roll, lazily crawling into his lap before coming face to face with the cock that violated you but moment s ago. “Anything for want, your highness.”

He tastes of sin, and you relish in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are no doubt some errors, i'll try to fix them soon.


	7. Fallen Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have been troubled in my sleep this night,  
> But dawning day new comfort hath inspired.

There was something thrilling about having a god in your mouth. He tasted salty like a man, but something else that hinted at other, at more. His length gently throbbed against your tongue as you held him there, lips circled around him and slowly making their way to his root, where coarse dark hair tickled your nose. Masculine, his hand on the back of your head letting you control the rhythm and pace as you serviced him. Loud deep moans punctuated the room as you would pull back, teeth lightly grazing up his shaft to evoke a shudder. Then you would swirl your tongue around his glans, flicking at the slit that was so generously providing you with more of his salty essences. 

Head thrown back, chest rising and falling while his muscles flexed, fighting the want to move, to grab and hold you down while he’d fuck your mouth like he’d fucked your abused cunt. Adonis is what you thought of him as, but that was a lie. Adonis was just a handsome mortal man envied by the gods. Yet Loki was a god- and he was utterly enthralled by your ministrations. This god of Chaos, so demonically handsome and dangerously cruel was at your mercy as you sank down his length again. And you sucked down on his cock, moaning when his hand flexed in your hair, a light tug. “  
“That’s it princess.” He groaned, hips lifting as you pulled back again. “Keep sucking me so sweetly like that.” You did, a hand reaching to play at the taught skin of his balls, massaging them as you swallowed the buildup of saliva and pre.   
Loki’s breaths began to deepen, and you felt the tremor in his hips and legs. The increasing pressure from his hand on your hair. The sac in your hand rising taut to his body.  
You pulled off long enough to whisper his name, catching his emerald eyes with your own before you sank down, the end of him brushing the back of your throat.

He tasted heavy on your tongue, thick as it gushed forth, coating your mouth and traveling down your throat. You moaned eagerly under him and his hand held you flush, unwilling to let you free before he rode out the last of his orgasm. But human you were, you needed air, and a tiny pinch to his thigh had the hand on your head removed, letting you pull away.  
His cock half hard, still glistening with your saliva and a few stray drops of sperm. Sperm you licked up, feeling he would praise you for the attentiveness.

His gaze down at you was lazy, a cat that was toying with a mouth. “You filthy harlot.” He moaned, reaching down to grab your chin softly, pulling you up his body so you sat next to him, leaning on the headboard.  
“You swallowed it didn’t you?” His eyes were so dark and promising, and even if this was for your survival, for freedom, you wanted to know what those eyes promised. “I didn’t even have to tell you, and you did.” He sounded almost impressed.  
“I take it most women you’ve been with don’t?” He laughed then, his entire body shaking as he pulled you over his body, heated skin flush to heated skin. Nose pressed to you neck, he let out a pleased hum.  
“No- It’s consider something only a pleasure woman does, and only for a lot of pay.” His hands busied themselves over your back, tracing small circles at the base of your spine.  
“I-“ You realize again, he is hardening, his length pressing close to your inner thigh. “I like watching my lover orgasm.” Loki’s expression shifts, one eyebrow raised as if he had never been called that before. Maybe he hadn’t. A God, prince, or king- you guessed he likely only had courtesans, or just simple whores.   
“And think, just an hour ago, the idea of fucking me was revolting you to.”

The words were cold water. Loki, the cruel, cunning, and sadistic Loki of Asgard had made a bargain with you in exchange for sex and intel.   
“Oh? Starting you realize the depth of your choice?” His hands had stopped their gentle circles on your spin, opting to travel to your ass, spreading your cheeks apart, as fs he would display you to any who walked into the room.  
“Your will and conviction are admirable, as is your technique.” His smile was arrogant and as two fingers tapped the base of the anal plug you mewled and arched into him.  
“I-“  
“Princess, let me clarify our deal.” His hand tugs on the plug, making you squirm as you can feel the other plug rub your walls. “You obey me, please me- and I will protect you.” He slowly began to remove the anal plug and your body protested, muscles clenching on it, trying to keep it in. An opposite to what it had tried to do earlier.  
“No one will touch you but me. No one will hurt you but me, and no one will fuck you-“ The plug came out with a pop, and to your shame, you felt little spots of a miniature orgasm ripple through you, “-but me. You’re mine sweet princess. And I am a very, very,” The plug was tossed to the floor with a thud and soon his hand was tapping the one in your tender cunt.  
“ _Very_ needy god.”

The plug in your pussy was gently, rhythmically, tugged at, easing it back and forth until he was all but fucking you with it. And when his hand slowed? Your hips continued the rhythm on instinct.  
Loki had the nerve to look pleased by your actions and even went so far as to kiss you like you were lovers once again.  
“You-“  
“Yes?” He began that teasing thrust of the plug, making you chase another orgasm.  
“How are you even still-“ He laughed, that full body laughter that was a mix of cruelty and amusement.  
“I’m a god you mortal trollop.” He accentuated his point, thrusting the toy faster into you.   
“My stamina, my recovery- I’m far above any mortal man.” The plug then was so quickly popped out of you, you squealed, clawing up to escape the sudden feeling of a gaping emptiness.  
Only to feel his hand grab your hips and slam you down on his awaiting cock.

He was a drug you realized, as the god of lies ripped another orgasm out of you without even trying. He must have spelled you, messed with your mind, done something. As he thrust up into your throbbing, squeezing cavern, you pushed up, hands on his chest, riding him like a woman of the night. Loki had done something you thought as you felt you breasts bounce, watched his mouth water at the sight of them on display. No one could do this so quickly. Your body was dancing on clouds, chasing the pleasure that threatened to blind you. No man could fuck a woman like this.  
Your nails dug into his chest as you began to whimper, his cock bumping your g-spot with an inhuman accuracy.  
No man could come that quick and still be ready.   
He reached up, pinching your nipple just to have you throw your head back and scream his name.  
No man had ever made you feel this way, feel so much pleasure while also making you want to run away in absolute terror.  
You rode his faster, meeting his thrusts, letting his cock brush that bundle of nerves that would soon send you spiraling.  
Loki wasn’t a man, he was a god. An alien. A monster. He was-  
“Look at me princess.” His voice was harsh as he commanded you and you made a mistake. You obeyed. That gaze, so lusting, so converting, so dangerous and alluring and dark-  
“Loki!” Your scream ripped through you your hips shaking as the orgasm robbed you of strength, his hands on your hips keeping you flush, his cock pulsing in you.  
“My God!” You screamed and screamed as he kept going, his own orgasm following you, filling you and fucking you through it, forcing his seed deep into your body. 

As the tremors of your passion ebbed, you collapsed on top of him and he was smiling. For a moment, it looked happy, genuine. But then it twisted to something cruel again, something wicked.  
“King- I am your king now.” He said, his own voice misted in awe. “A beautiful mortal princess in the arms of an immortal monster.” Hands traveled up your quivering body, soothing. “A sweet innocent maid, ravished by her lusty god.” You moaned into his skin, tired, wanting to rest, to melt away.  
“A fallen royal, taken by an alien king.” You squirmed in his arms, a light whine leaving you as your body begged for rest.

Loki seemed sated, content o pet your hair and kiss your sweat covered skin. He was dangerous, these actions and mood shifts moving too fast for you to understand. Yet, as he held ou, you felt yourself drifting in his embrace.  
“Rest my pet, you’ve proven yourself enough for one day.” And just like that your eyes closed, and you fell asleep.


	8. A Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold;  
> What hath quench'd them hath given me fire.

The next time you opened your eyes, you realized you were still, in his room, in his bed. The darkness outside told you it was well into the night but not yet past 1 am. After all, half the bars out in the city were still open and their lights on.   
“Sleep well princess?” Loki’s voice ran over you like silk, and he gazed at you from the doorway, enjoying the sight of you naked and in his bed no doubt.  
“There is shampoo and soap in the shower. The Grandmaster wants you and I to tell him of all the magic trick’s we’ve learned together.” You blushed and then-  
“But we didn’t-“  
“Trust me pet.” He smirked, eye flicking to you chest before returning to your face. “I am a master of magic. Do not forget-“ Five. It took him five steps to reach you, bending over to kiss you softly.  
“You’re mine. And I do not share.” He turned and left the room, leaving you in his bed, uncertain as to what he wanted from you later that evening.

Your uncertainty did not last long, as while you took a shower, ridding yourself of the scent of sweat and sex, Loki decided that would be the perfect time to join you in the bathroom, watching you from behind the glass door as white foam cleaned your body.   
“I admit, I should have waited. You’re very appealing, all wet and naked with just those little bubbles hiding you from me.” His arms folded across his chest you blushed when you caught the dark look in his eyes.  
“Maybe next time.” You murmured it softly, words almost drowned by the cascading water.   
“Already thinking of when you’ll submit to me next.” Loki’s voice was purr and you clenched the sponge in your hand tight, more foam falling onto your body.  
“But fantasizing of us fucking against the tile wall isn’t why I came in. I picked out your dress for tonight. You’ll need to play the part of besotted lover and eager student.” You shifted, trying to hide your chest from his view, because even while he spoke, those eyes kept staring.  
“Student?”  
“If you’re my student, learning magic from me, it will give us an excuse to be alone more frequently, and, with a bit of suggestion on my part, the Grandmaster will cease calling on you for personal entertainment.” You spun, hand on the glass and looking at your ‘master’ wth panic.   
“He- oh god. Once he finds out-“  
Loki glared at you and you simpered, panic still rising up like bile. “I do not share pet. He won’t risk taking you from me.” Green eyes raked over you a final time before he left you to finish your shower. 

The water cold, you rinsed quickly, exiting to his bedroom to find Loki had not been joking about a new dress. The old one you noticed was in a trash bin and this one? Gold. Shimmering and glittering with topaz. Sheer green and violet fabric draped over the lower half, giving an ethereal flow. It was simple to put on but-  
“Loki?” You called out of the room, yopur only covering a towel. Said man was lounging, a cup of some alcohol in hand.   
“Yes princess?”  
“I-“ You had an idea what he was going to say. “I don’t see a bra or underwear.”  
He smiled at you and you knew, knew, exactly what that look meant.  
“ _Fine._ ” You groused, his laughter echoing as you put the golden outfit on. It fit perfectly, and the banding rested under your breasts, supporting them, not to mention pushing them together and up giving a very generous view to anyone who looked. They might not spill out, but they certainly left nothing to the imagination.

Loki’s inhale and wide eyes did make you feel a bit smug though. He may have picked the dress, but you did pull in off.  
“Now,” he said, “you look like my princess. Just one final thing.” A flash of green and you saw it.  
“No.” He frowned, the golden circlet in his hands held out like an offering.  
“Pet-“  
“No, I will dress in what you pick but I’m not going to wear _that_.”   
“Princess-“ He hissed, smile utterly gone.  
“Absolutely not!”   
The item in question was a rather delicate bit of finery. Gold, it was simple in the fact it was a circlet. However, the two curving horns were a little too much, even for you.  
“You should be honored I would dress you with a diadem fashioned after mine. On Asgard, it would-”  
“This isn’t Asgard!” You practically screech. “This is Sakaar! And- Really? After that helmet?” His look is getting increasingly sour, but you refuse. Fuck you, dress you up or down, hurt you, but this? You’re not wearing a matching headpiece from when he attempted to conquer your home world.  
A hand shoots out, painfully grabbing your wrist. “You will wear my token pet, play the part of my sweet innocent besotted lover, and when we’ve cemented our potions with the grandmaster, I’m going to fuck you into obedience, and you’ll watch me doing with my entire battle armor on.”   
His anger and promise terrify you, and his grip tightens on you, making you whimper.  
“Will you wear my token pet?” His words burn in their intense rage and yet you feel a spark of dark perverse pleasure between your thighs.   
“Yes.”   
“Yes _what_?”  
“Yes your majesty.” You bet on it, bending up to kiss him quickly, a silent plea to let go of your wrist. It does the trick, Loki kissing you back with unbridled intensity, stopping only so you can catch your breath.

The diadem rests on your head, a gentle yet oppressive weight.   
You wonder if he’ll make you wear it while he fucks you later. 

Half an hour after you and Loki’s first tiff, you stand in front of the Grandmaster, who is clearly borderline blackout drunk.   
“Oh- OH!” He jumps up from his seat, drink sloshing and spilling onto the plush carpet. “King Loki,” He’s smiling, and you know from experience that the Grandmaster smiling while drunk is good, especially if he calls you by name. It’s only when he says ‘you’ or ‘girl’ that you’d ever had to worry.  
“And Royal too! I’m glad you could join us! Muffin?” He called for a woman, brown red skin speckled with pink dots. You think you recognize her as on of the lower favored like yourself. If you remember right-   
You force the smile on your face still while she strokes the Grandmaster brazen in front of you and Loki. Now you remember far too well and for less than pleasant reasons.   
“Muffin? Be a sweet and get Loki and Royal some drinks? Heavy on the high. Good girl now-“ The woman saunters off and you worry. Heavy on the high means that the Grandmaster plans to drug you with aphrodisiacs. You’d experienced them before. They made your body burn with need, and the few times the Grandmaster had managed to slip it to you, you’d barely had the time to realize it and run back to your room, locking yourself away and getting very intimate with one very large toy.  
“Must we sir?’ You put on your best pout. “I- We’ve had a long day.” Loki caught on quick, a hand encircling your waist and pulling you closer to his body. You blushed, and thanked god you could be so easily brought to pink cheeks by the man.  
“Hm-“ The Grandmaster hummed, looking at you for moment, Loki forgotten.  
“Is he as good as he looks? Everything a king should be?” Loki’s hand gives a tiny squeeze and and rather undignified chirp of surprise leaves you.  
“Ye- no.” You paused, letting the Grandmaster hang in the air. “He’s better. An actual god really.” You catch Loki’s pleased grin and the Grandmaster bares teeth in his smile. The silver haired man might be insane, but he was easy to play sometimes. You did have two years of practice after all.

“A God-“ Blue eyes shoot to Loki’s groin and you make a show of you brushing your leg to his. Besotted lover is what Loki wanted? It might fool the grandmaster about your wants, but you were not about to let him also end up in bed with the insane ruler of Sakaar.  
Risking alien STDs from one man was enough, thank you.  
“I decided to take Royal on as my apprentice actually.” Loki takes the drink Muffin has arrived with, and he goes so far to take your own and hand it to you. You aren’t able to tell Loki what is in it before the Asgardian takes a drink. Later, he promised to fuck you. Now, you know he will fuck you, and likely keep going until he passes out. This day couldn’t get any worse.

“An apprentice? Going to teach her all your tricks?”  
“Not all of them, but a few. She has talents I think could use a bit of finesse.” It’s clear what the Grandmaster and Loki are talking of. You lean more into Loki, swirling the drink and catching his eye. You tip the drink just enough so a few drops escape the glass. It looks like an accident with how you push yourself into Loki’s frame, but a flash of understanding crossing his face.  
He downs the rest of the drink in a single motion.

You are going to be fucked to death. You just know it.

As Loki and the Grandmaster talk, you let your eyes wander over the crowd. No other new faces, three scrappers are mixed in with the crowd. The Favorites. They’ve never bothered you, and you actually have enjoyed speaking to them in passing. With no other new arrivals, it means Loki will have the Grandmaster’s attention for at least the next two weeks. Ample time to get plans made for when you’d escape.  
“-Royal!” Your head snaps, the Grandmaster’s voice having been trying for your attention. Whoops. Time to play placating princess.   
“My apologize sir, I was just wondering if Loki-“ His hand on your side gives a tiny pressure, “-my King might like to see the air gardens tomorrow. The flowers should be blooming soon correct?” The excuse works, the Grandmaster’s blue eyes softening. He hardly showed how much he enjoyed plants, but, he had them and was quick to show them off at any chance.  
“A perfect idea. I’ll take you myself even! How about that?” The Grandmaster is talking to Loki again, and you relax. Or you would, but you feel warmth radiating from Loki’s hand on your side. Seems like the drug is taking effect.  
“It sounds lovely.” Loki leans down, nibbling at your neck. If the Grandmaster had any doubts, it was now obvious that Loki and you had been more than moderately intimate.  
“It’s a date.” The way the Grandmaster oozed the worse made you recoil in your mind. But he didn’t stop there, oh no, he had to make it worse.  
“I was meaning to ask, did our little Royal here win your heart? That a crown I see?” The grandmaster loved hosting events. And you knew immediately what he was thinking.  
“It’s a token- so others know she is mine, and my favored.” Loki’s touch is hot now, and you can see the veins in his neck throbbing. He has no idea and nothing could be said to prepare him for the horror that comes from the Grandmaster next.  
“When should we have the wedding then? Will I have cute little princes and princesses to look forward to?”   
Loki’s hand grips your dress rather than your skin tight, and you realize he did it on purpose. His green eyes are blown and you can practically feel the waves of lust rolling off of him. You pray he doesn’t have a bride or pregnancy fetish.  
“Not yet.” His voice is betraying him, and the change in timber is not unnoticed by one sociopath in blue. “Why don’t you practice for the wedding night?” He suggests, motioning to a nearby beanbag like chair.

“No.” You almost shout it, earning a scathing look from both men, for different reasons. “I-“  
Loki is drugged, and you may only have known him less than a day, but you doubt he would like being subjected to fucking you drugged in public.   
“I- am for his eyes only.” The Grandmaster opens his mouth to talk but he’s silenced as Loki spins you and roughly kisses you, hot and wanting.  
“Excuse us. My pet and I have had a long day, and I’m quite ready for bed.” Your god gives the Grandmaster no time to argue, picking you up and walking briskly to the lift.

Once in and door closed, he looks at you and know you made the right choice. He might fuck you to death, but he’d prefer it in private.  
“The drink was drugged.” He growls.  
“An aphrodisiac. I’m surprised you lasted this long.”  
“How long does it last?” You give your best estimate.  
“It takes six hours for me, so I’d hazard three at most for you.” Loki takes a few moments to take deep breaths before the lift dings at his floor. He practically rips his door open when he reaches it. Faster than you’d like, he’s thrown you onto his bed and looking at you in lust driven madness.

“I said I was going to fuck you in my armor.” His clothing shimmers and the helmet, so recognizable from his attack on New York rests on his head.  
“You’ll watch me violate your wet cunt.” His hands grab the dress, ripping it open with his bare hands.  
“And you’ll obey.” He was losing himself to lust, and you feared what he might do. He could break your bones without care and-  
You kiss him softly on his chin. Placate him, please him, submit to him and he won’t hurt you. Hopefully.

He responds by snarling, pulling the tattered remains of your dress up before he thrusted home.


	9. Binding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In youth, when I did love, did love,  
> Methought it was very sweet,  
> To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove,  
> O, methought, there was nothing meet.

You hadn’t been ready for him, not like you had before. There were no gentle fingers to prep you, stretching your hole so taking him would be easier. There were no soaked folds to allow him to glide in smooth and effortlessly. No, Loki had thrust into you hard, making you scream in pain and terror. He didn’t start thrusting immediately, he stopped moving the moment he’d reached your depths, hilted and his pelvis kissing your own. Your fingers dug into the sheets, whimpering in pain while you cried. He was drugged you told yourself. He didn’t realize you couldn’t-  
“Sweet princess.” His voice was breathy, lust coating his words. “You’re beautiful when you cry.”  
He was drugged your mind said, desperate to think he hadn’t done this on purpose, that he hadn’t wanted to be so cruel. Bending over you caused small flairs of pain, and you shook when his face reached your own. He was standing, you laying on your back, hips at the bed’s edge. He had all the leverage; he had all the stability and you would only be able to take what he gave to you.

Loki smiled, licking the trails of salty tears from your eyes while he moaned, rotating his hips- again, causing you pain.  
“Kiss me again pet, simpler and beg for me to pleasure you.” You don’t even hesitate, lips pressing to his own, your tongue slipping into his mouth. He tastes of the drink and you force a moan. The drugged liquor lingers, and you wish you had drunk it, if just to make this easier to accept. Loki finds your hungry kiss acceptable, and a small warm buzz come between your legs, the pain ebbing. His magic no doubt.  
“Beg me to give you release.” He kisses your neck, your collar, you chin. And your hands come up, wrapping around him as the warmth between your legs grows, and you can feel slickness forming.  
“Lo- master.” You whisper in his ear. “Please master. I’ve been good. I’ve been so good. Please-“ As you beg, your fingers massage his shoulders, pushing and tense muscle. He is a coiled spring, ready to unleash himself on you and you know it.  
“Master, my king, please.” You give and experimental wiggle of your hips and are rewarded with the tiniest hint of possible pleasure. “I-“You will do anything to be free, suffer any cruelty, any pain. You had to, because this man was the only one who offered a way home.  
“I want you.” It’s not a lie. You want the pleasure, the feeling of him driving you to madness with sex as he did the first time you gave yourself to him hours ago. “I want your cock.” Loki’s kisses have slowed, his mouth now lingering, sucking almost painfully. Marking you up like you belong to him.

You moan when he does so on your collar, wondering if he plans to show off the marks later, so everyone will know who’s bed you’ll be warming. It’s an arousing thought, and a rush of slick forms, aiding his slow thrusts.  
“I want your cum.” His breath catches then. You hone in on it. “I need it- deep. Please your majesty, cum inside me.” His hips pull back and the light burn is mixed down with the sparks of promise. “Your princess wants you. I want you. Fuck me master. Fuck me.” You kiss his neck and his moan reverberates in the room as he slowly thrusts back in making you shudder, this time from delight.  
“Such a needy pet.” He seems to have a bit of control back, but as he lifts his face away, you can see the blown pupils, the small tremor in them. The drug is still in his system, strongly driving him.  
“You beg so well, not a single lie.” His entire body lifts up so you can witness the ripple of his abdominal muscles through his leather armor, the rise and fall of his chest. He looks every inch a god ready for battle ready for war.

“I should have ruled your little planet.” He hisses with a sudden cruel tone, hips pulling back to slam in rough, making your entire body jolt. However, there isn’t pain, just surprise.  
“I was to be your king, you god.” His lust mixes with his anger as his hips begin the rough pace, slowly pulling out to thrust hard in. Each time, his cock hits your g-spot, sending white dots to your vision. It’s intense but it begin to feel vaguely good.  
“I’m going to make you mine. Mark your skin with my teeth, your cunt will shape around my cock, and your body will accept your God’s spend like the devout little slut you are.” Loki lifts up your legs, ankles brought up over his shoulder, bending you and sending his thrusts deeper.  
“Do you want it my mortal harlot? You want the seed of a monster?” Growling, he drives in, making you gasp before he swirls his hips, and you feel wetness begin to seep down your body.  
“Yes.” You reach up, wanting to grab him, maybe ground yourself. But he pulls back before thrusting into you and forcing you to accept the position, the fact that he has all the control and leverage. But he is a man, and you need to keep him pleased with you so you might get something out of this brutal coupling.  
“I want it. All of it.” His thrusts begin to quickly and your breath hitches. “I want my god’s cum! I need it! Fuck me! Fuck me with your monster cock!”  
Loki snarls, hips pounding relentlessly and aiming at your g-spot like a piston. It hurts but it also sends you spiraling into a brutal orgasm, screaming while your body tightens, milking him.  
“Slut!” He yells, and you feel an overwhelming rush of hot cum flooding your pussy. His hips don’t stop, and quickly, you feel the milky fluid gushing out, rolling down your body and soaking the sheets.  
“You traitorous slut. You’ll do anything to survive, won’t you?” His green eyes are nearly black with how wide his pupils are. “Take the cock of your conqueror, beg for his seed. You’re a betraying little slut.”

You gasp as he slaps your rear, the sudden flash of pain making you squeeze around him.  
“When we reach Midgard, I’m going to fuck you in front of all of them. That one eyed director, the toy solider, Stark, even my fool of a brother.” His hips are relentless, and you arch your back as he tears another orgasm from you.  
“I fuck you in front of your illustrious heroes, and you’ll beg me to do it.” He hilts himself.  
“What say you princess? Will you fuck your god and betray your people? Abandon your humanity for me?” Your mind is too lust clouded to understand what he wants, what he means. But you know sex, you know a man’s ego, and you stroke Loki’s.  
“Yes! Anything! My King! My God! My god, my god, my god-“ Your voice loses control of your words as you feel him pull out, a warm spray of thick white ribbons coming to land over your stomach and body, one managing to land over part of your face.

“Not a single lie.” No, he was wrong. You’d never do those thing, never let him. You’d only do this until you were off Sakaar, back home. Where you belonged.  
“Your face is so lovely, tear stains on your cheeks, skin dotted with my marks, and my cum-“ a finger drags over one of the trails of white, drawing it up over a nipple. “You look so ravishing decorated in my seed.” His eyes are still lust wide, and you open your mouth to beg rest, to beg a small break, but Loki cuts you off, grabbing you and flipping you onto your stomach, cum making the sheets stick to your skin. He’s not gentle as he pushes you and moves your body how he likes, but in the end your legs are off the bed, your ass pushed out and your torso resting on the now cum soaked silk.  
“Do not move my midgarian slut.” Closing your eyes, you hear him walk to another room and quickly return. A thud from in front of you had you open your eyes.

On the other side of the bed is a full-length mirror, and you can see yourself perfectly. The hickies are darkening on your body, and you see how puffy your lips are and the drying trail of cum over your cheek.  
“Now-“Loki moves behind you, and you understand now why he did so. He’s dressed like he was in New York. His helm fills the empty air, and-  
“One final touch.” The false crown he gave you earlier, filled from when he’d thrown you earlier is back and he sets it gently, almost lovingly over your head.  
“Now princess.” Loki’s hand moves up your back and you respond, hips canting up, towards him.  
“Watch as I take you.” His voice is that low purr, the one that promised pain and power and sex.  
“You will obey me my sweet one, you will submit to the will of your god.” He sinks in and you moan. There is not more pain this time, just the feeling of fullness, his cock pushing the cum he already filled you with out, sending it to drip down your thighs and onto the carpet.  
“You take me so well; your pussy is practically shaped to me now.” His thumbs stroke lazy circles in your hips and you moan when he reaches your g-spot again. His unnatural ability to find your core perhaps the most godly thing you’ve experienced from him so far.  
You look up into the mirror and you gasp as you watch the pair of you. He thrusts slowly, savoring the feel of you around him, his expression a mix of delight and fury, and you? You’re flush with pleasure, nude, your entire body is dwarfed by his own, and the image is one that burns into your memory. 

Loki is a monster, a would be conqueror, and you, his conquest. It clicks why he wants it. He failed to subjugate your world. But you’re a human woman, weak and helpless, you need him to be free, to escape and survive. He might not get your world, but he will take you. Dominate you in a way he failed to do before.

Somehow, as he thrusts into you, you find it utterly erotic.  
“Oh- Master.” The leather and metal hits the back of your thighs and stings, but each time it does, Loki sooths the pain, his hands kneading your ass, distracting you.  
“You feel-“His eyes snap to the mirror, and you stare at him that way, letting him see your face your expression. “perfect. It feels so perfect.” His smile is feral, wild and he hums, hips moving a bit faster, shifting to his cock brushed your g-spot, but just barely.  
“I love it.” The word escapes you and his eyes widen at it’s use. But it’s the truth, and you can’t back down. “I love this. Dominate me.” You mewl as he slaps your ass, but his smile never leaving.  
“Make me yours.” He stops the gentle grip on your ass, moving to grab your hips. He’s enjoying your words, your admissions about this perverse desperation in between you. 

“I’m your princess.” His hips snap suddenly, and you feel another wave of cum flooding your body.  
“Again.” His voice is ragged, his face an expression of passion and domination.  
“I’m your princess.” You pant out, rewarded with him speeding up to the point you feel and hear his cum gushing out of you, as his cock hits deep and send your own please hurtling towards oblivion.  
“I’m-“You scream as he slaps your ass again, his thrusts wild and reckless, “Princess! Your princess! Fuck! Fuck- Loki!” You scream as you feel him orgasm again so quickly, your own pleasure peaking, tightening down and body desperate for him.  
“Loki- Loki! My god! Master! King! God- god! LOKI!” His name escapes you a final time as he pulls out viciously, a torrent of his release coating your backside in seconds.

You slump, trying to watch him in the mirror, to not pass out from this violation. But you feel your body desperate for rest, for sleep. You see his entire posture slacken, his eyes bright and lusty, but in control now. Not three hours then- he somehow managed to fuck the drug out of his system.  
“Such obedience.” He moves out of your vision and you whimper, only to see him stand in front of the mirror, reaching out to brush the hair from your face.  
“And not a single lie from those pretty lips.” You sink into the sticky silk sheets, letting yourself let go, giving into sleep. 

You don’t hear Loki purr out your name, the one no one has called you in two years.


	10. Satisfaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I held the sword, and he did run on it.

The feeling of pain ebbed in and out of your mind as you roused from sleep. Your thighs ached, your hips felt bruised, and your neck? You briefly wondered who had punched you. But then, as fingers ran over silk sheets you recalled why you felt pain. And your lover’s arm gave a small tug, pulling you closer to his body.  
“Sleep well?” He didn’t sound like a man just woken up, he sounded fully alert, moving so he could press himself to your backside. As he did so, you could tell he was very alert with one part of his anatomy and the thought of having sex with him again made you groan out loud. He’d been brutal last night, and you didn’t want the throbbing ache between your legs to become worse than it already was.  
“No.” You grunted, trying to weakly push him away. Loki hardly liked the action, and his grip became only more forceful, a small thrust of his hips against the cleft of your ass making you whimper. You’d jerk him off, suck him off, but heavens above let your body have a day’s rest. You’d been celibate for two whole years before yesterday. It’s not like your body would become a nubile cock sleeve for him overnight.  
“Pet-“ His warning was clear but you wiggled in his grip again.  
“Lo- Master.” You recalled his preference, “Please- I. I’m sore.” There was a shift in his movement then, his hand letting go of your hip before snaking down towards your sex. “Please don’t I-“  
“Shhh.” His voice had lost that authoritative warning tone as he attempted to shush you.  
“My poor mortal. I was a bit demanding, wasn’t I?” His fingers brushed over your clit and you jolted, a tiny pained whimper escaping.  
“Hush my sweet pet. Let master reward you for behaving so well last night.” His words and breath ghosted over your ear and you tried to relax. “You begged me so sweetly, let me tend to your aches and pains.” A warmth covered you then, and the pain ebbed away.  
“Loki-“  
“Pet.” The word made you wiggle in his hold the warmth almost uncomfortable.  
“I won’t be able to heal you if you keep moving like that.” Was that the warming sensation? Magical healing? “Though, I do love how it feels.” His hand pulled up, the warmth leaving, and the pain and ache in between your legs gone.

“Now, aren’t you going to thank me?” He rolled off of you and you turned you body to look at him.  
Pale flawless skin greeted you, his black hair a tangled mess from sleep and a cocked lazy grin held his expression. He looked indeed, how you thought he ought to look. A handsome, carefree god of mischief. Unintentionally, you licked your lips admiring the fact that for a brief moment in the morning glow after a night of sex, Loki appeared the kind of man you would have only dreamed of taking to your bed once upon a time.  
“Well? We don’t have all day you know.” The blush that rose up was genuine, and while you knew what he wanted, your body did something else entirely.  
You rolled over and kissed him softly on the mouth. Your own action surprised you, Loki as well. You didn’t say anything to him, but quickly pulled back, moving to leave the bed. Your heart thundered in your chest as you did, expecting him to pull you back and demand a sexual favor, but he didn’t. In fact, he let you escape to the bathroom before you heard his laughter from behind the closed door.

Loki let you bathe uninterrupted, and you wondered if this was another of his moods. One moment he was almost decent, the next, cruel and demanding. Washing away the faint remnants of last night, you saw yourself in his mirror and winced. The hard ‘kisses’ he left on your neck and collar were a dark purple and yellow. Where he’d held you hips also had the same discoloration. While your cunt might no longer be in pain, the rest of you ached with reminders of the vast difference in strength. A towel to cover your modesty, you went back to his room, finding Loki on the bed holding up a small tablet and stroking himself. 

Green eyes flashed to you and you stood in the doorway, frozen.  
“Come here pet.” His words were heavy with his breathing. He must have been close to completion then.  
“I want you to suck my cock like you did yesterday.” The tablet was tossed on the bed, and with horror you saw what he’d been watching.  
It was a video of him fucking you last night. Panic must have been easy to see on your face, as his smile rose, motioning for you to go to him.  
“The Grandmaster planned to watch us from afar and had cameras set up while we were at his party.” Sickness rose in you. You had never wanted to be the subject of the Grandmaster’s depraved lusts and now, the man had witnessed you and Loki in acts that you were reluctant to repeat. “I’ll have to thank him for the recording later. Now-“ Loki looked angry, likely because you hadn’t moved from your terrified spot by the doorway.  
“Come here and worship your god Midgardian.” 

Why did that name make something low in you hum with approval? It was another way he called you mortal. So why did the clear derogatory word illicit such a reaction?  
You’d think later on as in that moment, you crawled over his bed and set yourself between his legs.

His cock smelled clean, nothing like the musky scent of old sex. Had he bathed before you’d woken up? Tentative, you gave his shaft tiny kitten licks, testing his reaction and adjusting for the taste.  
Desire exploded in the back of your head as the sharp tang his cock washed over your tongue. Whimpering at the knowledge that you enjoyed the taste of him your body argued and protested the desire with the pain. You wanted him, your mind and body betraying you, but in the same breath and heartbeat, your body warned you of just the danger having sex with Loki presented.

“My poor, sweet princess.” Loki cooed, hands running through your damp hair. “I was so brutal last night, marking you so roughly. But I cannot help myself, you look perfect decorated in purple and yellow.” Sickness and desire- you wanted to pull back because your rational self knew that he was a sadist, he wasn’t going to be kind of care about your pain. But as you licked his cock, base to tip, the massive organ twitched in appreciation, drops of precum beading at his slit. A salty reward for your actions.

You knew he’d want you to deep throat him again, but at the same time, you wanted to taste him. Take his cock at your leisure. So long as he didn’t demand, there was no reason you couldn’t try to pry some enjoyment from this.  
“So gentle with me. So sweet on me.” His fingers massaged your scalp, and it sent a tiny moan from you.  
“Oh, you like that pet?” His fingers worked harder, yet it was pleasing, and it only served to help distract from the dull ache on your neck and hips.  
Kissing the tip of him, you looked up, finding him relaxed a lazy smile making you blush. Without the cruelty, the anger, he was handsome.  
“Master.” You hoped that in being in such a good mood, he might consider what you were going to ask of him. He blinked, slow and lazy like a cat.  
“Hmm?”  
“Will you- can you make the pain on my neck and hips go away too?” An eyebrow rose but you pressed. “I want- I mean, I won’t be receptive if I’m in pain for the next few days.” He blinked again, slow, before closing his eyes with a hum.

“I’ll consider it.”  
You respond by immediately taking his cock deep in your throat, swallowing around him. Loki wasn’t expecting it, and his breath hitched before a rough laugh left him.  
“Oh so that is how you plan to play me.” His hand in your hand massages faster, and you moan around him, pulling up and sucking at the head. He’s practically leaking with as much pre as his cock is producing, and while it certainly make things easier, it means you end up having to swallow with each pass.  
“Keep sucking like a goddess and I’ll certain heal you. Maybe I’ll even give you a gift.”

Your hand reaches up, cupping his balls and gently squeezing them while your head bobs up and down. His scent fills your senses, and through your lashes you see him lean back, breaking his gaze from you while he enjoys your attentions. His hand is moving faster, and you can feel that tell-tale twitch of his cock on your tongue. You moan and feel his balls tightening, and mentally, you ready yourself for the oncoming waves of his semen.

His orgasm is silent, and you suckle at his slit while your hands milk his shaft. Two mouthfuls, you willing swallow both times, closing your eyes to enjoy the small fact you’ve brought a man so powerful and feared as Loki to be weak and prone under you of all things. When you open your eyes, he’s looking down at you again, an expression you’ve not yet seen on him. You recognize it though, sexual exhaustion. A sense of euphoria that only came when your fantasy and reality were the same.  
It makes a part of you twist in desire.  
It makes you bold.

A final mouthful of his cum, you pull off of him, his cock wet with your saliva and nothing else, not a drop of him had escaped you. You make a show of it, opening your mouth to let him see the milky white cream on your tongue let him witness as you close your lips, swallowing slow and deliberate. You open your mouth again, swirling your tongue to show him how well you did. Not a drop of stray seed left between you teeth, not any sign you had just swallowed several mouthfuls of a god’s sperm.

Loki takes a deep breath, eyes fixed on you, and you can tell the action had it’s desired effect. He enjoyed the display, and you don’t doubt he’ll want to see it again at a later date. Movement catching your eye, you look down, a final drop of creamy white at his tip.  
His coveting gaze makes you bold.  
Biting your lip, you wonder how the action will be received. You finger swipes away the small dollop of cum and slowly, you readjust your body so you’re sitting on your thighs, legs spread. 

Cunt open, pink and glistening with your own slick.

You take the cum covered finger and slip it between your legs, pushing it into you. You body thrums with your gentle touch and your mind hums with carnal approval.  
You just put his cum inside of you, willingly. You sent it into your soaking wet pussy without any prompting, without and indication you wanted him to fuck you.

You look at your master through you eyelashes, hoping it was the right thing to do.  
He’s absolutely focused on your soaked cunt, which throbs in the open air, drops of your own arousal slowly going down your thighs.  
“Perfect.” His voice is dark again but with promise.  
He moves off the bed and you remain still, waiting for direction. You’ve enticed the beast, and you won’t risk his mood changing to cruel because of a misstep.  
“You are so perfect my sweet princess.” His lips find your shoulder, and the sensation of warmth cascades all over your body. All the pain and aches are gone in an instant. You remain still as he kisses your shoulder and up your neck, alarmingly gentle and soft.  
“Do you want something alluring or charming today princess?” The words are so soft against your skin, you feel fear grow. Cruel Loki, sexual Loki, cunning Loki- you can handle those forms of him, but this sweet gentleness is new, and its almost out of character for him.  
“Charming?” You make it a question and he hums into your skin, still kissing you like you might have been actual lovers, not a master and his thrall.

“Very well. Today I tour those air gardens, and you’ll go and start gathering information about those who feel dissatisfied with our host.” You try to turn and face him, but Loki won’t let you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, making you simply accept his gentle attentions.  
“Be aloof with our relationship, but hint towards our shared passion. You’re my student in public, my lover in private.” His hands run up and down your arms and you begin to relax.  
“I’ve left the coloring on your skin from last night. Use it, show it off, make people wonder the kind of lovers we are. Use their carnal lusts against them.” You lean into him, his body behind you.  
“Use that sweet mouth to entice them.” He kisses your neck with a growing passion.  
“Make them dream of you.” You unwittingly moan, his hands now working the stress out of your shoulders.

“Use their desire against them, manipulate them just like you did with me.” You tense, panic again racing.  
“For the record?” He can tell he’s scared you, letting out a soft chuckle into your hair. “I adore it.” He tilts your head and kisses you on the lips.  
It’s soft and sweet and disarming. Your afraid but oh so relaxed and aroused and you shouldn’t be.

He lets you go and pulls away, leaving you in the room, on his bed.  
You shudder as you let go of the breath you’d been holding.

A god of lies was what Loki was. Mischief. Chaos. Lies. His kindness, his gentle touches are lies, using them to manipulate your body, your feelings, your desire as he liked. He knows that, he knows you know that. He was interested in you because you used lies to keep yourself alive and safe for two years when most people might have died. You hear him walk back in, a deep violet dress with green leaves embroidered in the hem is set in front of you and when you look to Loki, he’s smiling.

You’re a lying, manipulative woman who is willing to do anything to leave Sakaar and get back to earth.  
You reach up, kissing him as softly and sweetly as he did you before he walks out the room once more.  
Slipping on the dress, you come to terms with the situation. Loki will use you, and so long as you prove useful, if not pleasing and entertaining, he’ll hold up his end of the bargain. And so long as you satisfy him?  
The bruises don’t hurt anymore, the wetness between your thighs is left as it is.  
So long as you satisfy him, he will reward you as he sees fit.


	11. Unacceptable Offers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is my dear son with such sour company:  
> I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.

As you wander the halls of the Grandmaster’s tower, you hope Loki doesn’t expect amazing results in a single day. You know already of a few guests of the grandmaster, annoyed with his ruthless and insane leadership. Some more than annoyed, biding their time to rebel. You know them only because those in lesser favor tend to be that way, if for one or two reasons. One, is they’re bitter for falling out of favor, or two, they just want to go home but can’t.   
Sadly, in the two years you’ve lived on Sakaar, there have been several rebellions, and none have even made it past the first floor, turrets, drones, loyal bloodthirsty aliens who the grandmaster allows to do as they please not wanting their careless leader’s reign to end. After all, so long as he let them kill, rape, and torture captives and those unwittingly caught in their clutches, no evil monster would dare go against the system as it is.

Today, however, you just need to plant the seeds. Starting a rebellion is easy on Sakaar, laughably so. Get just the right people incensed, and they’ll start burning. Exploding into a brief but glorious resistance to the establishment. You spend most of the morning at the main entertainment room, chatting up various lesser favored and a few of the meandering scavengers. Today, nothing has come in of much interest, and they’re only there to hopefully get some insight to what the Grandmaster is current interested in.  
You tell them anything involving nobility or royalty. They laugh and say it’s not because of you.   
You smile, moving your hair to show the smattering of bruises on your neck.   
“Well, my King is hard to impress, and no doubt the Grandmaster will want to keep him entertained.” The scavengers fall for it, hook line and sinker. They’ll go out later that night looking for anything, and you hope something from Asgard might be found. You don’t know the technology, but something from his home world might prove useful in Loki’s plans for your escape.

As morning meets mid-day you change the setting, opting to venture out to the ‘city’ market. However, you’re not an idiot. A brief ride up the lift to Loki’s chambers, you retrieve the feminine crown he’d fashioned for you, knowing that on Sakaar, the more important you looked, the less likely you’d find trouble.   
The market itself is a welcome thing, food smelling heavily of spices and and meat. What kind of meat however, you never ask. It never does one well to wonder if the fried sausage youre eating was once a sentient being like yourself. But food isn’t why you went down, (though you did buy a nice fruit based drink). The market is a hub of malcontent. The poor, the poorer, and the poorest line the darker streets willing to do whatever you want for spare change. It isn’t long before you find one of your favorite street scum lords, Ziax. They’re a rather odd creature, a mix between humanoid and bull. Massive horns, three fingers tipped with hard black nails, and four massive legs that would be reminiscent of a centaur if their torso wasn’t over six feet long and vaguely snakelike with how they walked. 

“Royal. What brings nobility down to my lowly hovel?” They snort at you, rags dirty with what you guess is blood and bile. Something dead lays mangled on the table behind him.  
Best not to think about that.  
“I’ve come wanting what I usually want.” Zaix has been on Sakaar longer than you, but he’s tougher, stronger. He’d escaped the gladiator pits because he’d killed the scavengers that had come after him. You’d met him in passing, wanting to buy in formation about how to get off Sakaar. The bull alien smirked, mouth full of fangs. Ziax had been here far longer and traded in two things. Information and death. Only death of lesser favored who pulled rank too often and made too many enemies. But you’d only ever wanted information.   
He also liked you because you paid well and didn’t flaunt your elevated status in front of him.   
“Ah, rumor was you found yourself a king.” Ziax’s eye flash to the circlet, and you smile in spite of yourself.   
“I did. He’s-“ You hesitate, and Zaix laughs.   
“Oh, I can tell what he is. My only question is how he fits into what you want.” The bull knows you’ve been seeking freedom for ages, and he also knows you’ve never allied with any other favored heavily, much less been intimate.  
“He and I share like minds Ziax. Besides-“ Loki’s words echo in your mind. “He’s very easy on the eyes.” The bull looks interested. Coin is what he wants for pay but feeding him gossip butters him up so easily for his willingness to give you information.

“Do tell.” He brings his torso around, leaning on it like a chair.   
“He’s like me, humanoid. Fair skin, dark black hair, the most vibrant green eyes.” You smile, watching the bull’s interest grow. “He’s strong too. Strong enough that he downed one of those awful aphrodisiacs and was recover in under a few hours.” You force a blush.  
“He recovers _very_ quickly.” The tidbits have wetted Zaix’s appetite you can tell. By nightfall, he’ll have information of Loki’s sexual prowess being whispered about from the favored’s floors down to the most seedy bar.   
You ask the bull for updates to the gateways, the changes. You ask about the current feel of the market. You find out the gateways are becoming more and more erratic, and the market is simmering. For the information, you give him enough money so he’ll remember your generosity, and, to keep your meeting with him as secret as ever.

Your walk back to the Grandmaster’s tower is quick, the sky is darkening, and you’d not risk being left out when certain beings prefer the dark for rather obvious reasons. It’s only when you reach the tower do you notice her. Scrapper 142 is one of the few women who remain in the Grandmaster’s favor without making sexual offerings. You’ve met her several times, and she knows of you as well. Women who keep alive without sacrificing their bodies tend to have a mild comradery on Sakaar, and 142 is no exception. She’s just snappy and very, very strong. And a bit of an alcoholic.   
You would even be so bold as to call her a friend most days.  
“Well, and here I thought I’d never see the day.” Her voice is taunting, but you know her games well enough. She baits you, you kill with kindness. She told you once that she liked you, if just because you didn’t turn into a raging bitch at her when she was in a drunken mood. “The princess of Sakaar finally found herself a sugar daddy.”  
“Unfortunately, that implies I call him daddy, and I am sorely lacking in fatherly related issues from my not so tragic childhood to merit calling him such.” She laughs, a bottle of amber liquid in hand.   
“What you call him them? Your majesty?” You wink at her.  
“If he’s earned it.” 142 is grinning wide, teeth bared and eyes bright. You like her, and wish she had a better life.   
“I wanted to talk to you.” She steps closer, and you let her narrow the distance between the two of you. Her free hand nudges you to the wall of the entrance and you smile, knowing if she gets annoyed she might accidentally hurt you. Her strength is rather legendary among the scrappers and scavengers and ravagers.   
“He’s Asgardian right?” Her word slurs on the name, and you see the grimace. Was she familiar with Asgard then? With Loki?  
“Yes, he’s apparently King no less, and I’m quite certain he’s not making it up.” Loki would only call himself the king if Thor was out of the picture, but from what Loki said last night in a fit of passion, his brother is alive. Likely, just out of the picture and on earth rather than his home world. 142’s eyes widen at you calling Loki the king, and she leans in pushing herself against you. 

Her voice drops as she murmurs into your neck.  
“Don’t trust him. Asgardian nobles, the royals-“ Her sigh is warm on your skin. “They’re liars and murderers, all of them.” She pulls back, looking a little sad, and you know then that she is familiar with Asgard. How, you don’t know. Perhaps an Asgardian herself? You follow the rules of Sakaar with most people, never asking of one’s past. It’s certainly never come up with 142 before.   
“I take it this is where the subject ends for us.” You say, reaching up to gently push a few stray hairs behind her ear. She leans into your touch and you feel a pang of empathy. 142 is, has been, as lonely as you are. She’s come to you drunk before, curling up in your bed and holding you. You never talk about those nights because its those night you both have wanted only to not be alone. To chase away the demons that haunt you.

You care for her, because under her gruff and aloofness, she really is a kind person.  
142 burbs.  
If an alcoholic.

“Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?” The offer seems to startle her and she opens her mouth, but you cut off what you expect her protest to be.  
“Loki is.. helping me, so I’m staying with him. My room is empty otherwise. I wouldn’t mind if you used it while I’m-“ You swallow your words, and her own gaze softens.  
“You really think he can give you what you want?” She knows you want to escape Sakaar, she’s one of the few you’d trusted with the knowledge.   
“He’s the closest thing I have to an ally here, one who has the skills I lack.” 142 seems to take it well enough.

“You’re too nice for this place, too good. It’s been- fuck.” She curses and you giggle at her sudden annoyance with her own drunk memory.  
“Two years now?”  
Two years as of two days ago.”  
“Fuck.” She takes a swig of her drink and you shake your head, amusement on your lips. She’s valiant and strong and a hot mess.   
“You deserve to get out of this trash pile Royal. People like you- you won’t last here much longer.” It sobers you to hear that and know she’s right. You nod, pilling out your room key and hand it to her.  
“Go up and sleep. You look ready to start a bar fight but we’re not at a bar.” She snorts and nods but-

The movement is sudden, and her lips are on your own, the taste of alcohol strong and heavy. Yet she’s so soft, her beasts pushing against your own, her leg slipping between yours. You moan into her mouth, the feeling more than pleasing, and unconsciously your grind on her leg. The kiss ends and you stare at her smug face, not sure where the sudden affection, let alone desire came from.

“If you ever want to know what a real Asgardian is like in bed, call me up.” She winks and saunters, as much as a drunken woman can saunter, into the tower, vanishing down a hall.

You remain against the wall, a strange thrill racing up your spine. 142 kissed you, and you liked it. You had never really been with a woman, never considered but-   
Apparently, you have just discovered you weren’t exactly opposed to the idea.

Walking back to Loki’s rooms, you mull over the other revelation. 142 is Asgardian. However, she didn’t seem to know Loki, and made no mention of Thor. Either she’s been away from Asgard that long, or, was too plastered to recall them as the princes. By the time you reach your master’s rooms, you’re ready to tell him what you accomplished and found out.

You don’t get the chance however, as Loki opens the door, expression a terrifying mix of lust and rage. 

“So when did you plan to tell me of your lover?” You blink at him not sure what he means. Then it hits you as you see the windows behind him. He had seen you and 142. He’d witnessed the kiss.  
“I-“ You move into the room and quickly set yourself in the middle, bowing to him. “I- don’t have any other lover but you. She is a friend, and I didn’t know she ah-“ Your blush is genuine. “I didn’t have any idea she liked me in such a way until just then.”

Loki’s shoes echo with each step, and you whimper when his hand shoots out, grabbing your arm far too roughly.  
“But you enjoyed her attentions did you not?” You nod, and he lets go. The bruises on your arm already forming.  
“If she offered pleasure, would you take it?” You dare to look at him and you wish you hadn’t. He’s imposing, even without his armor. You can feel his power, his authority practically radiating off of him. Just like how you can see his fury in his eyes and his lust by the firm length hidden behind his pants.

“She did but I didn’t go to her.” Loki’s mood won’t lessen you bet. He’s to quick to change moods, and you have seen how easily he slips into cruelty and manipulation. “I came to you.”  
He’s staring, and you look away. You fear his wrath, his strength, yet the idea of him dominating you again is almost something desirable. Almost.

“And what did she offer?” Silently, you pray he won’t use the information against 142.   
“That if I ever wanted to know what a real Asgardian is like in bed, to call her.” Loki says nothing for a beat then he laughs. Hard cold laughter, he runs a hand through his hair.  
“Oh, if that woman only knew. Tell me, did she think me an abomination? A blight?” Loki grabs you again and pulls you to his bedroom. You feel yourself get just a bit wet.  
“She was surprised when I told her you were the king of Asgard. She didn’t recognize your name obviously, but seemed more-“ Her warning is fresh in your mind.  
“She seemed more wary of you than anything. My guess is she hasn’t been around Asgard for a while if she missed your-“ His look is sharp. “-prior actions.”

Loki looks at you and he smiles as he realizes you’re wearing the circlet from the night before.  
“It suits you.” You nod.   
“It’s a useful symbol. I wore it when we announced that we were involved. In public, it acts as a deterrent for unscrupulous individuals in the city.”  
“And how would those rats even know what it looked like?” You blush.

“The Grandmaster likes to broadcast his parties. Not to mention he took that-“ You cringe, feeling like you’ve been violated. You’d blocked it out all day. No one had mentioned it. But the fact remains. “-The Grandmaster has likely shared that video of us across the planet.”

Loki has the decency to look annoyed but he shrugs, beginning to strip off his clothing rather than magicking it off. When he reachs back to undo a strap, you reach out for him, unclasping it yourself.  
“Your attempts to sway me won’t work tonight pet.” You shake, but keep working at his clothes, peeling away the layers.  
“Even so.” You kiss his shoulder. “Allow me to pretend you won’t punish me for the kiss.” Loki lets you undress him, kissing patches of his skin as they’re exposed.

“Do you truly desire me Royal?” His use of your name makes you stop your kiss to his hip before you resume.  
“I shouldn’t.” You peel down his leggings, his legs made of lean taught muscle. You kiss his outer thigh. “But I do.”

A kiss to his rear you couldn’t hold back the tiny giggle that escapes you. You’re literally kissing his ass now. How quickly you’ve gone from independent woman to scared doe. Yet, there is a small measure of control here. He can’t very well do much to you, not without pissing off the Grandmaster. He kills you, the Grandmaster loses his new romantic couple and the drama that comes with.   
“And pray tell, what is so amusing?” Loki picks at his nails and you kiss his other ass cheek with a smile.  
“I’m kissing your ass.” You whisper. He hears you, his own snorted laugh coming out.  
“So you are. Do you find it pleasing?” You reach up, grabbing the globes in your hands, squeezing them.  
“You have an ass any woman would kill to take a bite of.”   
“Then bite it.” His words are hard. He’s entirely serious.

You obey.   
Teeth in his firm flesh, you scrape at him, pushing and massaging with your hands. You mock chew on him, raking teeth into muscle. It’s silly, but he moans nonetheless. You snake a hand around, gently grabbing his cock and stroking him.   
“Ah, is my pet hungry?” The only thing you ate was a light breakfast and the fruit smoothie for lunch. You don’t even realize your hunger until he mentions it.  
“Maybe.”   
“Then come around and take what you need my princess.”

You kiss the place you bit him, a small pink mark all you managed to leave on his body. The dress you slide off quickly, moving on your hands and knees to sit in front of him.  
“Master.” You look at him, and you realize as you see the lust in his face, you want this. You want sex. God help you, you’re willing to do these acts, and worse, you’re enjoying them.  
The circlet on your head remains and your heart beats faster at your wicked thought.  
“Will you wear it master?” Loki waits for you to explain. “Your helmet.” He sucks in a breath and the helmet appears on his head. Nothing else.  
You lift his cock up, kissing the wet tip. “My king.” You go down on him, slowly working his thick cock to the back of your throat. Each pass, you get deeper and deeper. The salty taste of him intoxicating. You can only imagine what you look like to him. Wearing an item of his choosing, asking to wear a symbol of his nobility, his time as a would be conqueror. The fact you wanted it, to be reminded of him in such a way while servicing him?

“Does this please you?” You pull off his cock, hands stroking him, fondling his sack while you speak.  
“Your princess, kneeling for you?” You lick the thick drop of precum that threated to fall. “Does it please you to see your Midgardian worshipping you?” Loki’s abdominal muscles flex and he grits his teeth, not answering you. You smile, holding eye contact while you take him again, nestling his cock at the back of your throat in one motion.

Your hands leave his cock and balls, reaching back to grab handfuls of his ass while you fuck your face with his dick. Its messy, and you moan when his hands grab your hair, taking the effort of your head bobbing away, replacing it with his rapidly thrusting hips.

Your nails dig into his ass as you press yourself at his root, black hairs tickling your nose when he shouts and fills your mouth with cum. Swallow after swallow, you drink it all down, Loki’s hand going slack as you feel the tremor in his legs.  
Pulling off, you lick him clean your body buzzing with your own need.  
You stand, and without a single word, you bend over the side of his bed, waiting for him

He walks over, and you feel him run a hand down your spin.  
“What did I do to warrant such obedience? Such devotion?” He slides into you from behind, and you moan at the filling sensation.   
“You must truly be desperate, asking me for help.” His thrusts are slow, and your heated skin quickly becomes slick with sweat as he keeps at the agonizing pace. Its pleasurable, but not satisfying. He rotates his hips, rubbing his cock against every part of you. Your eyes flutter at the feeling of him. He’s thick enough that he fills each inch, and the stretch of him borders to being almost too much. Vaguely, you know this much rough sex so soon after being celibate is bad, but you can’t help it. He feels so good. Not to mention, you guess satisfaction isn’t in his nature. He’s more the type of man to want and craze and take what he wants, consequences me damned.

“Do you love my cock sweet mortal?” You moan, pushing against his hips in affirmation. “You crave it like the slut you are?” You weakly lift you your torso, twisting to see his face.  
“Your slut.” You manage to gasp out. “Your Princess, your pet.” Loki hums in approval as he maintains his slow and deep thrusts.  
“That’s right. Mine.” A sharp slap sends a jolt of pain through you, your cunt instinctively clamping down on him.  
“Not some wayward Agardian whore’s. Not the Grandmaster’s. You’re mine. My mortal.” Another slap, you yelp and jerk forward, but remain impaled on his cock.  
“My whore.” Another slap.  
“My slut.” A slap.  
“My pet.” Slap.  
“My princess.” Slap.

“And tomorrow, my betrothed.” He thrusts hard into you and your scream and the orgasm comes without warning. Your pussy flooding you with femcum, squeezing him milking his cock while he stuffs you to the brim with his seed.  
“Ah- ah-“ Loki’s thrusts become punishing, white spots filling your vision and he fucks you into the mattress. “Be- Betro- OH!” He bottoms out inside you, globs of cum gushing out of your abused hole and landing in a growing spot on the floor.  
“Oh yes. The grandmaster seems to think I’ll share so I made a small adjustment to the plan.” He moans, leaning over you and whispering in your ear.  
“Think of it as a marriage on convenience. Don’t worry, I plan to have our engagement last a while. Wouldn’t want to seem like we’re rushing things.” He grunts, and another flood of his cum fills your already full channel. Loki is a monster. A sexual beast sent to kill you. “Personally?”

He pulls out, and you’re left shaking, legs spread wide, cum literally oozing out of you and onto the floor.  
“I just want an excuse to fuck you in a wedding dress.”   
Your eyes close, exhaustion taking hold. Tomorrow morning, you’ll wake up, wrapped in his arms, clean and void of any soreness or pain. Your bruises healed. But tonight, you dream of Loki kissing you atop Stark tower, dressed in his armor and you, in a white wedding gown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dropping hints like it's the 1500s.


	12. Possession Obsession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Here lies a  
> wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft:  
> Seek not my name: a plague consume you wicked  
> caitiffs left!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Rape Scene

It’s day three now of Loki having you as his… whatever you were. Lover was genial, but hardly accurate. Pet was his name for you but that spoke more of the fact he was dominant over you sexually. Midgardian was your race, and he said it like it was something foul, that he was an alien, a different race entirely. Mortal was a reminder that you and he were vastly different in ages and he was nigh immortal, a God. As for his habit of calling you Princess?  
That was what you suspected a bit of a fetish to him, what with how he insisted in the petite horned crown he’d made for you. 

The Grandmaster was looking at the pair of you like he knows exactly Loki’s plan however. After having woken up that morning, (and finding your way back between the God’s muscular thighs), Loki graced you with an explanation to the whole ‘betrothal’ he’d concocted. The Grandmaster lived for drama and romance and sex. When he and Loki had been touring the gardens, the madman had mentioned how he’d like to have Loki share you. Because if Loki managed to break your two-year record of refusals, surely, Loki could get you to warm the Grandmaster’s bed as well. Loki had said he might try, but was reluctant, as a woman must want of her own desire or it made for a poor coupling.  
The Grandmaster had insisted, and Loki had realized it hadn’t been a request. And despite his cruelty, he was neither willing to break the deal with you and put you in a position that would harm you mentally in ways no magic could heal, and Loki also loathed to think of you under or over the Grandmaster in any way shape or form.   
Loki would not share you.  
“Your lips and quim are mine to enjoy as I desire. I won’t have another man dirtying you when that privilege is reserved for me.”

So, the trickster had crafted a lie, one that would better serve himself and keep you at a distance from the Grandmaster’s lusts and those of others. He told the man that he found himself alarmingly smitten with you and your wit. You had charmed him with your skills and knowledge, and oh you were beautiful too so that helped. Loki claimed he found himself falling perhaps, in love with you, and was entertaining taking you as more permanent companion. Perhaps even for life. When the Grandmaster asked if Loki meant as a wife? Loki had told him yes.

Which is just why you sat next to him at breakfast, hips pressed to each other and you eating tiny morsels off of his fingers. The Grandmaster had to be convinced that Loki was smitten with you, and you with him. It wasn’t too difficult in theory. Loki was in his way, rather physically affectionate. His hands always touching some part of you, and it seemed like every few minutes he’d whisper something into your ear.  
Usually, orders on who to watch and gather information on. But, he did like casually dropping a reminder of his own sexual tenacity. He was a god, and he was insatiable.   
“Be sure to eat all your sweets my princess.” His hand offered a bite of what you recognized as a melon tasting slice of fruit. “I want you tasting delicious.” It drew a blush from you, recalling how he’d licked his finger the first time with you.   
“Only if you promise to be just as sweet.” You played a dangerous game when you flirted with him. Already, you’d seen how he’d take your little acts as facts, using them to his advantage. You bit into the slice, moaning for him, a drop of juice rolling down your chin.  
As expected, Loki kissed you, tongue darting out to wipe away the escaping liquid. From the corner of your eye, you could see the Grandmaster’s focus on the two of you heighten. 

Loki was going to schmooze the Grandmaster more and your business was to be like it had been yesterday. Gather intel, see where the cracks in the foundation lie. It was easy, and more names were added to your growing list of malcontents.   
When night fell, you and Loki reconvened at that night’s gathering. Or rather ‘thinly veiled party set to be an orgy half way though the event’. Loki had, as you expected, made you change into a dress that matched his own outfit. The dark blue three piece he wore matched the body tight velvet dress he’d selected for you. The only violet on your person being the shimmering eye shadow, accented with silver eyeliner. Hair pinned up, the gold crown gracing your head while he wore a slightly different version of his own, the two of you joined the party as it was starting.  
This time, Loki had been a little more informed about the various drinks as you didn’t desire a repeat of the other night. He hadn’t even been upset at your lecturing him about the various drugs they used, and had even gone so far as to say he’d check the drinks with his ‘sedir’ whatever that was. You guessed magic. It was probably magic.

The food was nothing but known or rather suspected aphrodisiacs. Figs, chocolate, oysters you recognized from earth, but much else was alien. Loki however took a particular interest in a type of nut that he told you rather conspiratorially, wasn’t sexually stimulating in the slightest, but rather something for aiding in digestion and bowel movements.  
The look on his face when you told him that was probably why it was there _was priceless._   
“So even my King has his limits?” You teased, as if it were normal to tease a homicidal alien.  
“More that your king prefers certain levels of cleanliness.” You snorted back a laugh at that. “You think I am joking?”  
“More that most things we’ve done haven’t been what most people think as clean.” He smiled back at you and nodded in agreement. You might have to be his obedient servant all things considered, but there was no reason you couldn’t be decent to each other. Or at least pretend to for a few short hours in public. If he had not been so cruel, so bent on dominating you, your could have seen yourself falling for his charm.  
"I love it when you call me your king." He said to you, offering a small bite on the chocolate he had in hand. You give him your best sultry look.  
"My king." You purr before taking the candy between your lips along with his fingers, sucking them lightly before pulling away. His pupils dilate, and you giggle at how he smiles, so handsome and lusty. A tiny dark part of you is excited by what he might do to you back in his room.

As Loki reclined in an overstuffed loveseat, you sat half in the seat with him, half in his lap. The alcohol tonight was low in proof, but its sweet taste was pleasant enough. As he ordered some more food to be brought to the two of you, you chatted a woman with green skin up about the recent lack of excitement these days. Loki decided as you said how bored you were lately to chime in.  
“Am I to think you find me boring then?” He made himself sound hurt and put out, but you were sure it was just another small act.   
“Never my king. You are the one thing that has brightened my life these past few days.” His eyes seemed to sparkle then as you caught his whisper.   
“What sweet truths you say to me, my dearest Royal.” He left you and the woman to resume your discussion, but her demeanor changed. She wasn’t talking to you so much as making bedroom eyes at Loki now. She made comments, trying to vie for his attention and you did your best to direct the conversation yet the woman was relentless, and you could tell from the way Loki responded to her, stiff, dismissive, that he was growing agitated.

You reached down, you hand on his inner thigh while you kissed his cheek, forcing a blush and batting your eyes at him. Simpering, smitten young lover. He practically cooed back at you, and the woman got the hint as Loki’s hand circled you waist to pull you closer. She left, huffing and making her annoyance known.  
“Are all the women here like that?” He said, the mask of sensual king gone and replaced by the arrogant sneer of the man who demanded you obey him no matter what.  
“Aside from a few? Yes. They’re just like the men Loki.” His eyes narrow at the use of his name without a title.  
“Master.” You correct, and while the glare is less harsh, you can see he’s not wanting to hear the slip again. “Men and women both will do almost anything to climb rank, and… favors are a fast and loose currency here as you well know.”  
“Then how rich am I for having all the wealth you possess?” His question is taunting, and you shouldn’t bite, but you do anyway.  
“Very. I’m exclusively your’s my King.” His hand is dangerously close to you bare thighs.   
“Good.”  
“You don’t need to worry about my loyalty Master.” You purr his title, hoping to calm him. “I’d rather die than join half these people. Not to mention, they can’t give me what I’ve wanted since the day I arrived.” Loki’s hand slips to your skin and the cool touch sends a shiver through you. "You're giving me what I need, and will give me what I want." Loki smiles then, petting your side.  
"I adore your little admissions pet." He keeps saying you don't lie to him, but that itself is a lie. Each feeling you have for him is fabricated. Lust is carnal and plain. It's not love. Not fondness. You are acting this way out of blind desperation. Nothing more. Loki isn't giving anything you want. Not really. Just an oath you pray he will uphold.

“Kiss me pet. Our host is watching.” His eyes are twinkling in dark promise, and you hesitate. A small peck, you pull away before returning. Loki lets you take the lead, your kisses becoming more and more intense each time. Soon, your tongue slips into his mouth, and Loki moans while his hands go up to grope you ass. It might have been enough for the Grandmaster, because you see him leave the room with no less than three women and two men in tow, Loki however is a different set entirely.

“Princess.” He growls into your neck and you freeze in place while his hands grope your ass harder, making their way down to your bare thighs.  
“Do you recall that other Asgardian?” You whisper out a yes, moving over his lap so you're sitting on his legs, facing him.   
“And do you recall what you did with her?” His voice is warning, and panic rises. Your eyes flick up, and that’s when you see her. 142 is behind you at the wetbar, drinking. Her reflection in the glass behind Loki might be faint, but the woman’s distinctive paints and hair are hard to miss.   
“It’s time for your punishment.”

One hand leaves your thigh and you look down at him, terrified of what he might do. The click of his belt and the swish of a zipper make your blood run cold.  
“Master.” You start to shake, fear making the blood in your ears sound like thunder. “Master please, I’ll be good. Don’t do this.” Loki is looking up at you lazily, his hand working at pulling out his cock. When it comes into view, he’s already hard, and the small drop of arousal beads at his slit.  
“Please, I’ll do anything but this. Please, not here not-“  
“Not in front of her?” You are gasping for air like a fish out of water, tears coming to your eyes. He had been cordial, friendly to you even. You had been willing to sate his lust back in his rooms. Not this. Not in public.  
“Please. Don’t. I can’t-“ You are close to crying his face murky behind your tears.  
“It doesn’t matter if you think you can’t pet. I’m your master, your king, and I say you will.”

He pushes your hips down, and bare of any undergarments per his orders, he slide into you with humiliating ease. The position and your dress don’t expose anything, but to those around you, it’s obvious. Loki reclines further back, hips angled so his cock is kissing the deepest part of you. Unconsciously, your pussy is throbbing around him, your slick velvet walls stroking him without any effort on his part. To him, your humiliated expression mixed with your fresh tears are the most beautiful things in the room. His moan is low and loud, turning the heads of several guests as he lifts your hips before pulling you back down. His fingers dig into your hips as you try to resist, to stop the movement, to pull away and off. But Loki is not human, his strength far surpasses your own and you’re helpless as he begins fucking you in the middle of the party.  
You can’t form words, let alone beg anymore. The feeling of eyes on you, of them witnessing your submission, your humiliation, your desperation is too much. Your eyes are closed but when you open them, you see her reflection in the glass. Her mouth is open and she’s staring at you as Loki increases the pace, the fact he’s fucking you completely obvious with how you bounce up and down in his lap.  
In shame, you look away, unable to meet 142’s eyes in the glass. She knew you were desperate, that you had said you’d do anything if it meant freedom. But she was too strong, too independent. You knew she’d hate you for becoming this.

Becoming someone’s toy. Becoming a whore for the promise of freedom.  
Loki’s slap to your rear makes you yelp and he practically shouts at you to look at him. You do, and his eyes burn green blue fire, capturing you in a snakelike trance. His one hand is enough to keep you astride him, riding his cock fast and hard. His other hand is gone from your peripheral vision for a moment, but when its back its with a shot of a liquor you know is heavily drugged. Loki shoots it back, a wild look in his face.

The glass is throw to the side, shattering and he grabs your chin, pulling you down to kiss you, forcing the drug into your mouth, not letting you go until you swallow.

The second you do, you scream into his mouth, the drug working like fire under your skin. Everything touching you feels extreme. The velvet crushed to your body, his cool hands on your skin, the wet messy sounds of your cunt taking him down with each bounce of your hips, the smell of him, so masculine and alien and powerful. Loki’s face is wild with cruel passion, fucking you with force as he violates you in front of strangers. You are crying, tears running down your face in ribbons as he keeps going, his twisted lust making him hurt you in a way that has laid you bare and raw. 

Loki is breaking you, and you can do nothing but let him.  
“Princess.” His voice is so cold, so cruel, you whimper and try to face him, to make him think he isn’t doing something that makes you want to die from the humiliation.  
“Say my name.” His words are spoken in pants, his skin is flush as yours is. The drug rides you both, and you manage to whimper his name.  
“Say. My. Name.” Louder, you say it, but it’s not enough for him. His grip is hard, it hurts, but his cock fills you mercilessly, your walls fluttering around him, his cock is hitting your core and making sparks of unwanted pleasure rise to the point it becomes your emotional pain. You don’t want this, you don’t want freedom if this is the cost.  
“SAY. MY. NAME!” Loki yells, and you feel your mind break, giving in, no longer resisting, no longer caring who is watching, who is seeing you so weak and helpless.  
“LOKI! LOKI! MY GOD! LOKILOKILOKI-“ His name is a scream, and your orgasm is viciously forced from you, his mouth twisted in joy as you weep in his arms, in his brutal hold. He keeps you pinned to him, flooding your insides with wave after wave of cum. You sob as he smiles, collapsing into his body, too tired, to ashamed to do much else.   
You can hear his praise. Such a good girl. His perfect pet, his darling mortal. Princess, princess, princess.

You look behind him, and see 142’s expression reflected in the glass. It makes bile rise in your throat.   
She has lust in her eyes, and you cry into Loki’s neck. 

The Grandmaster’s voice fills the room, talking to Loki as he kisses your neck, letting the ruler of the trash planet drone about passion and pleasure. You cling to Loki, and he allows it. Gently, so cruely, so gently, he lifts you off of himself, setting you to his side, tucking himself back away as if he’d not just shown the entire room his cum covered cock. And the fact its your cum mixed with his makes it all the more sickening. 

His hands run up and down your backside as you curl into him, hiding your face in his side, not wanting them to see your tears. See your shame.  
“-Come on now, she can’t be that tired just from one round. Bring her to my room. We’ll have fun.” The Grandmaster croons, and you grab Loki’s shirt in terrified desperation. “Your’s.” You whisper. Not the Grandmaster’s. Loki doesn’t, won’t share. You beg for it to have been the truth, that he hadn’t lied.  
“I’m your’s. Please don’t, please-“ You have no idea if Loki can even hear your faint whispers, but his words make you want to cry harder.  
“I’m afraid not. I’ve taken her a bit harder than I intended. I could not stop myself, she was just, she is just-“ Loki moves and you cling to him, but it’s needless. He picks you up in his arms as if you weighed nothing at all. Relief is washing over you in thick waves. Loki won't hand you to the Grandmaster. He won't share you. He won't let the Grandmaster have you.  
“I might have overwhelmed her with my attentions. She and I need to- decompress.” The sound of the party becomes faint, and when you feel him setting you down on soft bedding, you look up at him scared what you will find. His face is so different than the one you knew just minutes ago.

Green blue eyes are melancholy, and Loki kisses your forehead.  
“Sleep sweet princess. Let your master take care of you. Let your king protect you.”

You begin weeping again, turning from him, desperate to escape the sight of him, the feel of him on your skin. You cry so much it hurts, and eventually, you cry yourself to sleep.


	13. The Admission of Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest  
> By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.

When you wake up, you are clean, soft warm silk and cotton bedding surrounds you yet you are alone. The memory of Loki is fresh, and you shake, curling inward as you recall how he forced you to accept him. He told you he’d do such things. He hadn’t hidden his brutality or the fact he wouldn’t take no for an acceptable answer. You remain in bed for a while more, trying to erase the memory. But it haunts you, and only after you come to the resolution that he has done this to you, so now he can do no worse, that you get up and make your way to the bathroom.

The water is hot on your skin, and it drowns out the sounds of Sakaar. It covers over the outside world, and you close your eyes, willing it to wash off the memory of his violation. It helps. Not much, but it helps.

As you return to Loki’s room, you see the dress he’s selected for you for today. A deep green, the cut is low to the point your breasts threaten to fall out. Perhaps by way of an apology, there is a lace panty and a garter included, black, it holds up the stockings. The slit in the dress goes all the way up your hip, but ribbons hold the portion at the top of your thigh shut, so the only thing anyone will see is a bit of skin, nothing more.  
The crown sits on top of a note. Today, he is going on an outing with the Grandmaster, and you’re to make friends. But the last bit of the note makes a dead weight fall in your stomach.  
‘We’ll need guests for the wedding.’

The idea of marrying him, even falsely makes you shudder. He’s a monster, and the thought of being his wife, his eternal property is sickening. You have barely survived four days of him. You doubt you will be able to survive many more at the rate his cruelty rises and his sexual appetite fails to be sated. The note burned over a candle, you make sure that it is only ash before you leave Loki’s room.  
Finding friends isn’t exactly hard, so long as you remind yourself that they’re not so much friends as fair weather friends. Cutthroat highschool girls have nothing on Sakaar’s women.

“So, is the rumor true?” One woman, skin fuchsia pink and eyes a soft lavender asks you. Her name is… Diana. The Human name.  
“What rumor?” You ask coyly, fingers running in your hair as you look down over the city.  
“That your King is in love with you.” It’s such a funny lie really. Loki wants you for sex, and needs you for his own purposes. Love is something he likely only feels for himself. But you smile, a blush brought up by thinking of his cock, and you reply.  
“No, no, we are fond of each other. That is all.” You purposely avoid looking at them, acting evasive and shy about the line of questioning.  
“What about you Royal?” The woman asking is what you can only describe as a lizard man. You only know she is a woman because unlike her male counterpart, she lacks the bulge others of her people seem keen to flaunt. You asked her once about that- Apparently showing off the ‘goods’ was her male’s species’s way of establishing hierarchy.  
“What about me?” You say quickly back. You act the part of defensive love, and they eat right from the palm of your hand, a few of them giggling.  
“Do you love him?”

You open your mouth to pretend to lie, to say you do, but from the corner of your eye you see two gold horns above a crowd.  
“I am not sure yet.” You shift uneasily, eyes darting to the spot. Nothing is there. Perhaps it was your imagination. “I enjoy his company,” sometimes, “and he is incredibly smart,” dangerously so, “I think I could only love a man who offered me an intellectual challenge.” That was the complete truth at least. Loki might be smart, but he did not offer a mental challenge so much as a mental defense.  
“So you like them worldly?” You resist rolling your eyes at Ylva, a woman who appeared human, sans her cat eyes.  
“That’s certainly one way to put it.” The girls giggle and you keep entertaining like you’ve done for the past several years. Only now, rather than weaving stories about earth and it’s myths and legends, you tell stories of yourself now. You and Loki that is.

“What’s his magic like?” You blink, not sure how to reply.  
“Powerful. It can heal me so deeply I feel no aches after he and I enjoy each other, and he can also use it for less than reputable purposes.” You’re pretty sure he can anyway.  
“Since you’re his student, do you know anything new yet?” You look away. This was something you had expected, but doubted Loki or you would need to force or play into heavily.  
“No, I am still learning the basics. Casting a spell without knowing how magic works, how to control it is very dangerous.” A warmth blossoms in your chest, and you wonder if it’s true or not.  
“How soon before you’ll give us a show again?” The all begin then, begging for a little magic trick show.

As you show them a few sleight of hand tricks, you find yourself basking in their praise. It feels nice, even if briefly, to be entertaining so. But as you have the deck of cards vanish, his voice fills your ears.  
“Showing off today my princess?” Loki is behind you, and when you turn to face him, he catches you in a heated kiss. It’s like all his other kisses, dominating, and you quickly give in, responding with suckling on his tongue for a moment, (or two). Your lips parting, you gasp for air and Loki hums, a smile on his face. Your fear and revulsion rise like sickness but you force your own smile, force the mask of his lover into place.  
“My king.” You kiss him softly on his cheek, and his fingers dance at your sides.  
“Now, what’s all this then?” He motions to your little set up and reluctantly, you pull him down to sit. He’s unkind however, taking up so much space you have no choice but to sit in his lap.  
“I’m just entertaining my friends.” The use of the word sends a few of them tittering. Calling someone a friend, so openly is an invitation of bare basic trust, a valuable thing.  
“Far be it from me to interrupt.” He leans into you, nuzzling you neck. “Continue my pet. Show master what you can do.”

Its then that you realize Loki has never seen you do your tricks, not entirely. A small spark of courage, you want to show him that parlor tricks they might be, but they’re useful. You begin with a few fortunetelling acts, nothing to heavy. It’s when you ask for something valuable that the women hesitate.  
“I’m not going to break it, it will be your’s again, I’m just going to make it vanish for a moment. You’ll get it back.” For whatever god was looking down at you, it was Topaz, the Grandmaster’s favorite dog that joined your gathering, a gold bracelet shoved at your face.  
“Alright trickster.” She says. “Make that vanish.” The bracelet isn’t just any bracelet. It’s one of the keys that the Grandmaster’s trusted dogs use to get around the city. It unlocks most things that don’t require a code to be hand-keyed in. You recognize the challenge for what it is. If Topaz hands it to you with the promise of returning it, and you somehow break it, that means punishment. Punishment from the Grandmaster. And while Loki has ‘claimed’ you, the Grandmaster knows you’re sexual, and his own twisted desires have come back from the grave you dug for them two years ago.

“Of course Topaz but-“ You turn your head, looking at Loki eyes begging him to help you, “for luck?” You ask him. Loki’s green eyes twinkle, and he grin, catching you lips with his for a rather reserved kiss. The women coo. Your acting is paying off.

You set it on the table in front of you, grabbing the dark violet handkerchief you carry over it.  
“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to smash this, making it vanish into the very unknown of our reality.” The crowd is eating it up, buying into the stupidly elaborate lie. “Then I’ll bring it back.” Your one hand gives Loki’s knee a squeeze before you bring your other hand down on the bracelet with a crack. You know it, but they don’t. Your fist hit the table, and the bracelet is gone. With flourish, you pull the violet cloth up, letting them inspect the space, the cloth itself. You fold your hands behind you back, and you feel Loki’s chuckle in his chest. A gentle weight encloses your wrist, and you smile.

He’s helped you, far more than he realizes.

“Topaz.” You draw the woman from her scrutiny of the table and her cold gaze snaps to you. “Do you want it back?” You ask sweetly, she hisses at you.  
“I need it back. If you don’t, I’ll report you as a dirty-“  
You pull your hands to your front, the bracelet on your wrist, glittering in the light.  
“I think it looks better on me personally, but I guess, it is your’s after all.” You take it off, handing it back to her. Topaz snatches it from your hand and storms off. Meanwhile the women around you are giggling, knowing looks cast your way. None like Topaz. You suspect not even Topaz likes Topaz sometimes. 

“Princess.” Loki blows against your ear and you shiver in his lap. “Your show was most enlightening, but I have a meeting with some chefs. The Grandmaster wanted me to introduce a few Asgardian food dishes to his friends.”  
You get up slowly, offering him a hand out of instinctual habit. Green eyes flick to the open palm and he takes it, lifting it up to kiss. Somehow, it seems more intimate than anything you’ve ever done with him. He looked like he lusted, but it was not that same cruel, wild lust he showed you. That has been- something passionate, promising pleasure, your pleasure.  
“Tonight my princess.” He makes a show to bow slightly to you, and you realize what that likely did to his ego. Bowing to a human woman, even as an act was something you doubted he wanted to do in the first place.

You call upon all the Disney movies you watched as a child and do your best to curtsy for him. “Tonight, my King.” Loki winks at you before walking to the lift, no doubt to do exactly what he said he would. You remain with the women, the conversation now about how much you all hate Topaz, and how she probably was just jealous of one thing or another.

By the time evening rolls around, You’re mentally drained. Keeping up with the women, (and men) who court the Grandmaster’s favored is easy but it takes so much mental effort to just not leave them and try to find something actually intellectually stimulating. Like a book. Hell, you’d take re-reading Romeo and Juliet if it meant you could leave the insipid women and men to their own devices. Alas, Loki wanted you to make friends, to be the well adjusted Sakaar woman who was in love with him. 

Sitting at a table, you wonder abut his words. Asgardian food? Maybe you’d get to try some tonight. At least no one could say you were not gastronomically traveled while on Sakaar.

He arrived casually, his helm making it easy to spot him in the crowd. He saw you, and winked from across the room.  
“Go back to our chambers.” His voice was on the back of your neck. You turned, and a shimmering gold mirage of him stood behind you.  
“Ah ah ah,” he wagged a finger at you. “No one but you can see me. Now, while my illusion keeps them occupied, go up and wait for me.” Your face must have betrayed the fear in you, the fear of another brutal rape.  
“It’s already pet, you’re not in trouble. In fact, you might like what I have in store.” The gold illusion vanishes, and you blink. Which one is real then? You don’t ponder it long, using the opportunity as Loki gathers a crowd to slip away.

By the time you reach Loki’s room, you’re certain you can’t do this. You can’t stomach the thought of him touching you again, violating you. No matter how good he can make you feel, you don’t know if you can handle him anymore. But he’s your only hope. Ending this now would be dangerous. Without Loki, you’d have no real way to spurn the advances of the Grandmaster, let alone others.

A deep breath, you enter his room, only to have your breath stolen away. 

Gone is the gold and marble, gone are the fixtures. The room is dark, the night sky hanging in the air. Twinkling starlights suspended, they glitter and shift with each step you take. A trail of starts hangs overhead, and as you walk, you notice all the details in the faint light of these stolen stars. The carpet is soft grass, the furniture mound of earth, fallen logs, rocks. The hallway is a stone path, illuminated by faintly glowing mushrooms, and the door to his bedroom is behind a waterfall of stars.  
It’s breathtaking, and you stand there, mesmerized.

“I take it you like it then.” Loki’s voice is behind you, and his hand come to rest on your hips. “The stars here are hidden by those rifts and light pollutes the sky no matter how far one might go from here.” He leans down, resting his head on your shoulder.  
“Do you recognize the galaxy?” He asks, and you look up, the realization coming and robbing you of your control. The bright trail of stars isn’t just a cluster of them. It’s the Milky Way. The brightest starts form the constellations you know from childhood, and as you turn, the Moon, the beautiful moon with a man’s face, a rabbit, it hangs behind Loki, who is smiling so faintly you almost swear he is not smiling at all.

“You-“ Your voice leaves you, and all your longing, all your dreams of going home, your fervent desire to just see something as simple as the moon again comes back to you in force. You wail as tears fall down your cheeks, legs giving out. Loki is the only thing holding you up. He lets you weep, lets you wail your sorrow into his chest and you hate him. Hate him for this. For reminding you how much you miss it, miss earth. He hums softly, a tune you don’t know, rocking you side to side as you cry. His hands rub small circles into you back, as he patiently waits for you to compose yourself. When you do, your eyes are puffy and red, and you snort, feeling that you must look disgusting, weepy and snotty as you are. But if so, Loki doesn’t seem to mind or care, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“I am sorry.”

His words are paired with a look of remorse, and you panic. It’s a lie, it has to be. He- why is he apologizing, he’s only doing this to manipulate you, he doesn’t care he-  
“Don’t look at me like I’m a liar Royal.” He tilts your chin up at him. “I raped you.” The cold detached admission from him stiffens your body. You had ignored it all day, pretending it didn’t happen.  
“I hurt you, and while I told you I would, I did not expect to find myself… regretting it as I did.”  
“Please don’t-“ You whimper, but he glares at you, and you go silent.  
“As I was saying, I regretted it. I rarely regret my actions pet, and I’ve done far worse things that I have not a speck of remorse for. But I regret what I did, and I must take pains to restore your faith and trust in me.” You push at him, afraid. This isn’t the cruel man who accepted only obedience. This isn’t the man who once called for the subjugation of your world. This isn’t him.

“Royal-“ He tugs you back and you struggle in his hold more. “Royal!” His yell startles you and his eyes make you afraid.  
He looks genuine. He looks like a man who regrets.  
He looks deceptively human.

“I will hurt you. Time and time again I will. I will do whatever I feel I must to get off this putrid rock. But what I did last night was of spite. I knew you had done nothing, I knew you hadn’t lied to me. I knew you wouldn’t go to that woman, yet I wanted to make you hurt. I wanted her to know you were mine. I wanted to cause you both pain.” He kisses you. It’s disarmingly soft, and he ends it quickly. His lips begin their path over every inch of skin he can find. Soft kisses like an apology. Each one making fresh tears in your eyes. You don’t want this. This gentle touch, kindness. This human regret of his. You want to think him a monster, an evil you must stomach. You don’t want to see him as a man, as a man who might hold you and say he’s sorry and mean it.

“I don’t want forgiveness Royal. I am a creature beyond needing such things, it is beneath me.” Of course it was. “But you did nothing to earn my cruelty then. It served no purpose, and I risked my plans, our plans, over petty selfishness. Understand me in this my pet, “ he cups your face in his hands.

“I am the monster parents tell their children about at night. I am wicked and cruel, and will use any means necessary to get what I want. I do what I want Royal.” He is begging for forgiveness you realize. His pride wont let him admit it but- “I regret what I wanted, what I did, to you.”

You kiss him.

He is the one frozen as you hold his face in your hands, kissing him with all the passion, all the emotions running in you flowing from you to him in that kiss. You understand. You understand the length he’ll go. The sacrifices he’d make. You know, if it came to you or him, he’d chose himself every time. He is the monster he says he is, and you cannot hate him for it.  
He is a God of Lies, but it had been a truth he told you, when he could have easily have never told you at all. He told you enough so you would know the depth of his depravity, the ruthlessness in him. He told you the truth.

“Loki.” You say his name, your eyes seeking something in his you can’t name.  
“Why did you choose me?” Why, when he could have had others. You’re no fool, in the last few days, he’s had people eating from his hand yourself included. But in his eyes, in that twinkling starlight, you see something flicker to life. Something warm and not at all monstrous.

“Because you had nothing.” He says, fingers running down your face. “No magic, no weapons, no real skills, yet you survived. You sacrificed nothing and managed to survive. Everyone else I saw, everyone else I found out about had all given up, given a part of themselves away to they could survive here.”  
“So why-“  
“You’re strong enough to survive.” He smiles, and you realize that emotion in his eyes.  
Adoration. Affection.  
Hope.

“The small, frail mortal, on a world that should have killed her, managed to survive where so many had given up or died. I knew you could survive me, would fight with me.” You kiss him, and he responds. It’s gentle, sweet even and you leaning into him, soaking up these scraps of affection from him.  
“I gave a part of myself to you.” You whisper and Loki gives a knowing chuckle.  
“I know.” He bends, lifting you into his arms, carrying you to the middle of the room. The grass is soft, pillowing around you where he lays you down. He hovers over you, face framed by the stars hanging in the air, the light of the illusionary moon haloing him like an dark angel.

“And I will never be able to return it, but I will protect it.” You feel your clothing vanish, you feel his warm skin cover your own.  
“I will protect you Royal.” His kiss is faint, and you gasp in pleasure as he slides into you, rocking so slowly its reminiscent of something you had giving up feeling or knowing so long ago.  
“You are my princess.” He says into your skin. “And I, your King.”


	14. The Love of a God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Within thine own bud buriest thy content,  
> And, tender churl, mak’st waste in niggarding.

You know that it’s his magic that makes the illusion of space, of this lush earth and fake green. You wonder where he based it from. It seems so real. The petrichor of the earth, the cool grass under your skin, the smell of moss and wood. It feels so real, and you cry in his arm, wishing that it was.  
“Hush, do not cry, not like this.” Loki’s voice is so soft, a lull aimed to sooth you, calm you. “No more tears, not tonight.” He is Loki Silvertongue, and he lives up to his name, words coaxing you back to his arms, grounding you as his hips glide back and forth, cock sinking into you slowly and deeply.

The pleasure is unlike anything previous with him. He was rough, demanding, dominating, yet there in his arms, you feel your body enveloped by him. His magic radiates from his skin and drifts over your own, his warm flesh chasing away the chill of the false earth, and his eyes-  
His eyes dance with pleasure and a bare exposed honesty that makes you keen when he sinks into you, lifting your hips a fraction so his cock brushes you g-spot. His strength is there, but now, it’s not so threatening. It’s protective, his arms moving to side of your head, his lean muscular body hovering over you as you lift up to meet his slow thrusts. His power is raw and primal yet for once, he’s not using it to threaten you. He’s using it to pleasure you.

“That’s it, that’s my perfect pet, my sweet princess.”  
He kisses you everywhere he can reach, small brushes of his lips over you neck, your collar, your shoulders, your face. “So good to me, too good for me.” He breaths in your ear, kissing it before sucking on the lobe. It’s all so intimate, so gentle and wonderful.  
This you realize, is his apology. He cannot beg you or ask for your forgiveness in words, but as he kisses your cheek, you understand. He hurt you, deeply, and this is his way of healing what his magic cannot. And the thought makes you smile faintly, he is not wrong. You need this; this gentle, intimate passion and pleasure. This is not making love, for he doesn’t love you in truth, and you don’t love him. This a balm over a raw would, a way to help meand the hurt he has caused.  
“My treasure, my secret, my weakness.” His words ghost over you in their strange way, making your heart feel less heavy, less hurt. He is being merciful and-  
“Royal, look at me,” Your eyes are closed, and you gasp as he sinks into you to the point he’s hilted himself, his balls brushing your ass. “Royal,” Its so soothing, so natural, having his cock nestled so deep in your body, it feels wonderful and-  
“Royal, please.” The plea, you eyes open and find his green. They glow in the darkness as he kisses your lips. He remains still, his cock kissing the deepest part of you, throbbing while your pussy attempts to pull more of him in. 

His kiss is so full of longing, of silent begging. He cares for you, in his own twisted selfish way, he cares for you. Loki’s kiss ends and you gasp as he pulls back sinking in once more, reaching down to move a leg over his hip, bringing it up over his shoulder. The position is almost uncomfortable before he slowly guides you to lay on your side, his cock reaching a place you’ve never felt before.  
“That’s right, just relax, let your master take care of you.” He calls himself your master, but it doesn’t bother you like normal. It’s void of that edge of demand, that need for your obedience. You moan as one hand reaches between you, flicking over you swollen clit. You try to move your hips, seeking more friction but Loki chuckles, not putting more pressure on the red bud like you want.  
“It’s alright, trust me, your king will not leave you wanting.” He isn’t your king, you’re no princess, but he makes you feel that way as he slowly increases his pace, as he rubs just a bit firmer to your clit.

“Loki.” You gasp his name out to the air, rocking in time with him, the pleasure mounting slowly. Your body feels like putty, melting into the soil that isn’t soil.  
“I know.” He whispers, its so faint you can barely hear him. “It’s alright princess, I have you.” His attentions do not stop, and the orgasm that ripples through you is sweet. It melts away your stress, the aches and pains. With release, you cry anew, and Loki bends down, kissing you again, his sweet whispers chasing the salty tears away.  
“Let go, it’s alright to let go. I have you- trust me.” He croons, and you feel him thrusting again, your walls fluttering around him, wanting his cock to provide. “Trust me.”

He sinks in and you turn you head, looking at him.  
His skin is pale, illuminated by white moonlight, making him radiant in the darkness. His hair blends into the shadows themselves. The scars on his skin ripple and ground his body to reality, as if without them he would be a flawless god, an illusion himself. The stars behind him twinkle and your head falls back the milky way dancing in your vision.

“When I deliver you, I will take you under the stars.” He says, and you believe him. “In the pale moonlight, I’ll undress you, bathe you in the purest mountain waters, anoint you with the stars in the sky.” It sounds magical. “You’ll be beautiful, dressed in darkness, star kissed skin and moonlight in your veins. I’ll take you like this, under the heavens, cover your body in mine so no one will see your beauty but me.” He sounds like he means it, like he dreams of such sweet things for a woman he hardly knows.  
“I will make love to you again and again, until the sun rises, and the magic fades.”  
You cry out, the orgasm making to tremble and shake as it returns with intensity. Making love to a God. To Loki. Is this what he wants? Is this what he means?

Is this what it is like, to make love to a god?  
“Loki-“ You whimper and he kisses you. So many kisses, you melt into them, his name a rippling chant as his hips begin canting harder, faster.

“Yes my princess, tell me what you want, tell me what you crave.” You arch into him, reaching up to hold him, to cling to him as another orgasm approaches.  
He lifts you effortlessly, shifting so you straddle his legs, sinking down on his cock. It is a reflection of how he took you at the party, but this time it is just the two of you. Just him lifting you up and down his length, moaning as your cunt squeezes and milks him, panting into your neck as he feels himself beginning his own decent into passion.  
“Tell me-“  
“You.” You cry out, smiling as you feel him inside you, cock brushing over your g-spot, slipping in and out of your slick womanhood, awaiting him, Awaiting his seed, his cum.  
“I need you.” Loki sucks in a breath, his green eyes fever bright.

“Make love to me.” You kiss him all over. Each inch of skin you can find.  
“Make love to me my god.” He holds you tighter, pulls you closer. “My King.” You shudder, so close, your body ready to collapse on itslf. “My-“

Loki cuts you off, drinking in your moan as the orgasm comes, his own following your own, filling you with his warmth, with his seed. It floods your insides, dripping down between you, dirtying you both yet you relish in it. In how he trembles and shakes, how he holds you so tight yet protectively, as if he would shield you from the world.

The pair of you sink to the floor, his illusions not fading. You look at him, his face younger, more calm and open. The wrinkles at his eyes are almost gone, the dimples highlighted in the faint shadows. His smile is one that suits him. It’s full of innocent mischief and trouble, full of wonderfully wicked promise and yet nothing dangerous, nothing frightening.

This is the man you could care for. This is the man who would protect you from all the evils of Sakaar if he could, who would kiss you and care for you and keep his promises.  
“You never lie to me, you know that?” He says, laying next to you, propping up his arm and looking at you, a mystery to be solved. “No matter how much you could, you should, you do not.” He leans over and places a hand on your own, his fingers rubbing small circles over knuckles, as if trying to ensure you won’t vanish, fade away. “I am not sure I can handle it.”

“I-“ You look at him, relaxed and boneless. “I don’t understand.”  
Loki shakes his head and pulls you into his arms, enveloping you.  
“You do not have to my princess. Your truths make me feel things I have long missed.” He breaths deeply, and you feel safe. You feel comforted.  
You feel loved.

“I think I-“  
A finger to you lips, he gives a look of knowing, of understanding.  
“We both wish it was such a thing, but it is not. Tomorrow you would regret saying such. Until you can say you it and mean it- that you would offer yourself to me, priceless, for an eternity, no matter my cruelty and darker nature- do not say it.”  
You look away, ashamed, confused, hurt. “Then what do I feel Loki? Why do I feel like this?” Why did he do this, all of this, if not to make you feel this way for him.  
“Because I am a god of lies my sweet princess.” He holds you close, you hear his heart racing in his chest.  
“Love is the greatest lie I can make a person believe.” You blink back hot tears of embarrassment. Had one night of pleasure, of this kindness made you so desperate? Were you so void of hope you saw it when he was all but saying there is none? Were you truly, so easy to manipulate?  
“And can you love?” You ask him.  
“You want to know more specifically, if I could love you.” Loki’s hand brushes the tangles out of your hair, and it makes you feel that warmth you haven’t felt in years. A warmth you thought you might never feel again. You want it to be real.

“I have not lied to you, and I will not. You must trust me in order for my plans to work, for us to escape. Your trust is vital to that.” He hasn’t answered your question.

“I will make love to you one day under the stars of Midgard. I will hold you close and kiss you make love to you with dreams of me.” This is a new kind of cruelty you realize. The kind that comes with cold truth.  
“I won’t tell you that I love you.” You feel sleep coming over you and you look at him; he looks sad, as if he wished he could say different.  
“You must trust that I do.”

You sleep, and dream of him holding you close as you stare up into the glittering stars of home.


	15. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now stand you on the top of happy hours,  
> And many maiden gardens, yet unset,  
> With virtuous wish would bear your living flowers,  
> Much liker than your painted counterfeit.

When you wake up, his arm is wrapped around you, the morning sunlight pouring in through the windows. You don’t feel sore or tired. In fact, you feel well rested. Safe even. Loki is on his back, eyes closed and face devoid of stress or worry. You slept on his chest, the sound of his heart matching you own, your hand held in his, your legs tangled just a bit. It’s sweet, almost domestic. You look up at him and smile while he remains sleeping.  
He has broken your heart. He loves you, but it’s not love at the same time. His cruelty and ruthlessness are parts of what comes with love from him, and while you wish they didn’t, they do. His love is not safe, nor, is it kind. It’s unhealthy, and it will kill you in so many ways if unchecked.  
Yet you still lift your head, kissing his chin before snuggling closer, enjoying the warmth of his body, the softness of the blankets and pillows under you. It is not perfect, it is not going to last, but for right now, it is something, and you will take it.

After your brief wake to kiss your lover, you return to the waking world later, Loki still laying back, only now a book in one hand, his fingers absentmindedly running through your sex tousled hair, gently coaxing the tangles out.   
“Mmm?” You look up from you spot on his chest and he looks down at you. The expression is lazy, tired.  
“Sleep well pet?” You nod you head, pulling up to get off of him. It is when you sit up that you look down and see Loki is erect. Nervous, you glance to him, finding a wide grin.  
“Only if you want to.” Its both an invitation and an offer. He keeps reading, and you look to the room, illusion gone. The floor is still so soft, you’re still so warm and comfortable and the gentle throb of good sex from the night before lingers in your body.  
He tastes delicious, and you make sure to swallow each drop.

The rest of the late morning is a bit of dream. You and Loki shower together, but his touch isn’t lustful, rather, he teases you. Pointing out tiny scars and blemishes while sensually rubbing soap over your skin and spraying you down with water. The best part was when you washs each other’s hair. The feeling of trust to not get soap in one another’s eyes, the soothing massage of your scalp, the hum of a song from his voice- Loki was acting like how a lover might, and while you knew it wasn’t going to last, you would enjoy it. You also got to give him a very soapy hand job, laughing when he came hard enough so his cum coated your entire stomach. He remarked how you were doing well keeping up with a god of mischief, getting messy in a shower of all things.

Your dress was one you and him chose together. A golden gown, the beading was of various patterns, and Loki changed them to green rather than their original violet. It would be the first time you wouldn’t wear the color that had in a way, marked you as belonging to Sakaar. Again, the crown he fashioned is worn, and you walk to what is now essentially brunch. His arm is wrapped around your waist, and he looks exuberant, his pace lot so menacing or predatory. You like this side of him, this strange, fleeting playfulness he carries with him.

It is wonderful, until it is not.

As the pair of you sit down, you, once more eating from his fingers, the Grandmaster joins you, smiling. “So I was thinking.” He begins, and you purposely lean into Loki, reaching up to twirl a trand of hair in your fingers. It is a defense. So long as you’re obvious with your ‘infatuation’ with Loki, the Grandmaster might pry and prod, but he won’t outright take.   
“Royal is your student right? It thought it might be nice to you know, have her and you give us a performance soon.” Loki smiles, reaching over to slip a tiny slice of cured meat to you.   
“If she is ready, I don’t see why not. But, magic takes years to learn, at most she might be able to light and candle or make tea stir itself. Nothing very entertaining I’m afraid.” You eat, guessing if you did, Loki would just use his magic to cover up the fact you don’t have any. The Grandmaster however, eyes you, leering openly.  
“So princess,” You smile at him and as sweetly as you can you cut him off.  
“Royal please. Only Loki can call me princess.” The grandmaster looks like he might have been hit in the face, and you and feel Loki shift, sitting a bit taller, straighter. He’s clearly pleased by your tiny rebellion to the Grandmaster.  
“Only Loki?” The Grandmaster asks, and you reach over, slipping your hand down to the waistband of Loki’s leathers.   
“Only Loki.” You say, as breathy as you can, eyes focused on the man who’s green eyes are practically sparkling with glee.

“So why only him?” The Grandmaster is playing a game, he wants something, and you blink. You don’t know what the Grandmaster wants from the question. If he wanted you, he’d be focusing on you, focusing on how to get you to slip up, do something so he could claim a debt or a fee. The Grandmaster isn’t the kind of man who’d kill Loki to get to you. No, he makes people go to him. He makes them make the mistake, so they have no one to blame but themselves. No one to please but the Grandmaster in order to survive. You need to answer his question, you need to tell him what he wants to hear.

“I love him.”   
You tell the truth.

Loki stills immediately, and the entire room goes dead silent. Love, openly admitted love, is rare. Genuine love is a myth. The Grandmaster is caught just as off guard as Loki, frozen, mouth open, eyes wide in shock.  
You move your hand to slip into Loki’s bringing it up to kiss.  
“I realized it not too long ago, just last night and- well.” You smile, and the Grandmaster recovers, but not with words you wanted to hear.

“I see. I can’t wait for the baby to arrive, I was worried you two might not stay together.” 

Loki’s grip on his fork is hard, and you see it bend. You are the one caught off guard now, and your mind sends you into a panic. You and Loki hardly used protection, but you took a drug that was supposed to render you infertile for months on end. In fact you took it-

The shock was easy to read on your face as the Grandmaster reaches over and grabs your hand.   
“It’s so tiny right now! But, I’m sure it will grow up big and strong. Not to mention handsome eh Loki?”  
Loki meanwhile is trying his best to not look ill. His skin is pale, and his eyes are focused ahead of him, not meeting the Grandmaster’s gaze.  
“How can you be so sure?” He asks, stabbing a sausage and shoving it into his mouth. Loki had been calm and collected and seeing him slowly panic is making you panic. Blue eyes twinkle in eon old knowledge when the Grandmaster answers.  
“I just do.”

He gets up and leaves, and you look at Loki, who is staring at his plate of food.  
“Loki-“ No response, “Master?” You try. Nothing.  
“Your majesty?” He is ignoring you but that’s not true. He’s staring at nothing, he’s internalizing his panic you realize.  
“Please, Loki,” You whisper, “Loki, I need you.” His head turns and he sucks in a breath. Gone is that morning’s mirth and joy, gone are the eyes of mischief and good humor. Back, and the eyes of resolution, of grim determination. Back, are the eyes of cruel absolute domination that make you wilt in fear and writhe in want.

“Get a key to the storage units and be in our rooms by sunset.” He sits up, but not before kissing you hard.  
“I will see about correcting this mistake.”

He leaves you at the table, a brief glance down to you flat belly before he vanishes into the crowd.   
You have your task.  
What’s more, you’re pregnant with his baby.


	16. The Desire For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck;  
> And yet methinks I have astronomy,

Loki’s words hang over you like a storm cloud, and they way he thundered off makes you wonder if he is angry at the fact you are quite possibly pregnant, or the fact the Grandmaster’s schemes are manifesting in a way neither of you anticipated.   
You both had expected the Grandmaster to be trying to get you into his bed, but this? This attempt at all but ensuring you and Loki remain ‘together’ is far more insidious. Loki has been open that he is visiting, a traveling King. He’s in a way, passively made it clear he intends to leave at some point, just not in the future, which makes this gambit of the Grandmaster all the more confusing. If Loki leaves, and you have his child, he’d want to take you with him. Hell, Loki even made up the whole betrothal rumor. So why did the centuries old alien seem to pleased at you being pregnant with Loki’s child?  
If there was a child at all.

The task Loki had sent you on was not an easy one, as the keys to the various storage units and bays were many, and without knowing which one Loki wanted, you’d have to get them all. Not to mention, food stores, weapons, sundries, all were kept in different places. You finished brunch, and looking at the men and women who gathered in the room, their eyes hovering over you a little bit longer, you fled down and away to the places no one visited. 

The gladiator quarters were odd to say the least. The Champion, the Grandmaster’s favorite, has their own suite, but the rest were confined to cells- glorified prisons that offered false comforts. You rarely visited them, but when you did-  
“Oh! Hello, it’s been a while miss.” Korg was perhaps the most genial beings on Sakaar. Brutal, deadly, but polite and kind. “We heard rumors you found someone. Must be nice. Or is it not so nice, given that you’re visiting?” The rock being stood by the bars, one of the other gladiators who he’d befriended, Miek. The small insect being was apparently a native of Sakaar, which made you have more and more reasons to hate the Grandmaster. Enslaving the natives and establishing a new rule in it’s place based off of another government- gee, sounded a bit too close to Colonialism for your tastes.   
“Yes and no Korg.” You reached out, gently patting his arm. “I- the man I’m with shares many of the same desires I do.”  
“Oh, no wonder you like him then. But wait, if you like him, why are you-“  
“According to the grandmaster, I’m pregnant.” Korg looked down at you, and Miek even gave what you assume was an incredulous look.  
“Humans don’t show for several month Korg.” You explain, slightly annoyed.  
“Meant nothing by it miss.”  
“I know.” You sigh heavily, looking past the rock being into the rest of the large multi-prisoner cell.

“So you came down here to tell me the good news?” Korg sounds as mystified as you feel, and you shrug. The baby is maybe a few clustered cells now, nothing to worry over. In fact, you reason, most pregnancies don’t even make it past the first trimester. You’ll miscarry no doubt what with all the stress.   
“I need keys to the storage units. Food, clothes, supplies.” Korg smiles.  
“I have just the thing- Miek, you still have that arm from the guy you killed yesterday?” The insectoid chitters and runs off briefly, returning with an all too human looking arm.

On it’s wrist, a gold keyband. The same kind as the one you used in your trick with Topaz the other day.   
“How did you get this?” You look at the both, not even caring that it’s currently attached to a severed arm. Not like you haven’t seen worse here.  
“I- Korg- I only thought you could tell me who has the keys and when they walk by this- it-.” Miek chitters again, and you see him pull the arm, and braclet back.  
“Now now, fair is fair. We might be friends, but we’d need a fair trade.” Korg has never asked for much in the past. A new weapon, some decent food, to join him in a rebellion, (you had declined, saying that you very well couldn’t just pick up a gun and start shooting). Miek however, has the arm, and it’s Korg who translates.  
“Miek wants you to open the cell.” You stare at them both, dumbfounded.   
“You what?”  
“That’s what Miek wants. I’d like it too, but it’s Mieks arm, it’s Miek’s to trade.” You glare at the insect who hisses at you.

“I can’t do that Korg. Even if I could, I’d be caught, and you know what would happen.” Melted. And that’s just the fastest, most painless option.  
“Not anymore,” Korg says, cheerfully, “If you’re able to have a baby, the grandmaster wouldn’t harm a hair on your head.” That makes you pause.  
“…Korg, what do you mean he wouldn’t harm me?” You look at them both, and Korg seems puzzled by the inquiry. They know something you don’t. Something about the grandmaster no less.  
“Most women can’t have babies here. Miek told me once it’s because of the food and atmosphere. Makes women infertile.” You feel your heart rate rising.  
“How does Miek know this?” The insect sounds annoyed, talking to Korg in a series of loud gnashes of mandibles.   
Korg translates, “the Grandmaster has been trying to find women to help build up the populace you know? Since Miek’s a native, he and others were brought in once to find out what. Apparently, the babies that do get born were already being made when their mothers arrived, or right after. But once here, women can’t anymore.” More angry chitters from the insectoid. “Like he said, it’s the food and atmosphere, women can’t really adapt.” Korg looks pleased however.  
“But you can! You must be really lucky then. So, even if you broke the rules, the Grandmaster wouldn’t kill you-“  
“He’d just force me to-“  
“Have babies. Sounds right. Now, will you open the doors.” Your scared look is easy to see and Korg’s kind expression falls.   
“You didn’t want to hear that.”  
“No.” You back away, feeling scared, feeling like now, you understand why the Grandmaster wasn’t opposed to Loki having slept with you, with you and Loki becoming a couple and purposely denying any way for the Grandmaster to be near you.  
“No Korg, I didn’t want to hear that.” You reach into your pocket, pulling out a small key card. One taken from a lazy guard and used to enter the lower grounds to visit.   
“Wait two weeks, by then, I’ll be gone, and no one can trace it back to me.” Korg grabs it from the ground looking at it like you’ve given him salvation.  
“Miss-“ You smile as best you can.  
“My name is-“

You tell him, and then run to the nearest doctor, asking for a pregnancy test. The results make you vomit, and no longer feeling anything but fear, you retreat to Loki’s room, curling under the covers of his bed, desperate to recover from the revelation.   
The Grandmaster doesn’t care if you and Loki are a couple, if you’re pregnant with his baby, he doesn’t care what you two do. All he cares about is that you can get pregnant, and if you can get pregnant with Loki’s child, that means you could become pregnant with the Grandmaster’s as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed a few tag changes, and there will be a few more added in the next few chapters as plot points reveal themselves. I also apologize for the shortness of this chapter, but I wanted to keep the following smut separate.


	17. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And, constant stars, in them I read such art  
> As truth and beauty shall together thrive,  
> If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;  
>   Or else of thee this I prognosticate:  
>   Thy end is truth’s and beauty’s doom and date.

When Loki arrives that night, he makes no comment about you missing dinner, he doesn’t ask about the keys he wanted, he says absolutely nothing as he walks in a strips off his clothes. There is nothing from your lover and ally, just his arms encircling your waist, and pulling you close. 

Morning however, is a different story. You wake, and as he gently coaxing you into talking, you confess your failure to him, and tell him what Korg has told you.  
“So please help me to understand this pet,” Loki is sitting up right, his back against a mound of pillows shoved to the headboard.  
“You had a key to gladiator cells, the very prisons, and you gave it away?” That’s what Loki focuses on. Of course he would. Your pregnancy is just a distraction from the task at hand. He likely thinks he can take care of it easily or- You look up at him, his lips pressed into a thin line while he holds you to his chest, thumb rubbing up and down a spot on your arm.  
“Yes.” You mutter at him. “I had no more use for it, and Korg’s rebellion would take time for him to plan.”  
“And this Korg, he’s done this before?”  
“Not successfully.”  
“I gathered.” There is a hint of amusement there. “Two weeks. You are right is suppose, it gives us the time we need, not to mention, provided he survives and stages his little coup, we’ll have a lovely distraction from our own escape.” You sigh, sinking more into his side, the growing bundle of cells inside you making you uneasy and its not from morning sickness.

Loki seems to sense the reason for your morose behavior, bending down to kiss the top of your head. “You’re doing well for carrying my child. I had to do some hard digging but, you should be able to bear me an heir rather effortlessly. Mortal apparently are a rather adept race when it comes to procreating.” You aren’t sure you heard him right. He wants you to keep the baby? He wants the baby? You’re shaking, and Loki notices.  
“Hush princess. I never intended you to become pregnant if that’s what you’re thinking. Nor would I force you to be rid of it. At first I thought the Grandmaster was bluffing and that if he wasn’t I’d give you… the option to terminate my child.” You are flabbergasted. You expected him to either be possessive of your unborn baby or make you have an abortion- hell, your ‘baby’ is nothing more than a cluster of cells and might not even survive the first six weeks!  
“Oh don’t give me that look. I will need an heir at some point, and I do not intend to continue Odin or Laufey’s legacy of bastards. I might not like you wanting to be rid of it, but it is your choice, I cannot, nor will I, force you to bare me a child.” He holds you tighter. “I am cruel, but there are some crimes even I find rather abhorrent.” 

You are quiet, and Loki takes it as an insult. “And yes, while I did rape you, I do have limits, at least act a little less suspicious. I’m not about to go around killing infants, despite what your Midgardian media no doubt told you.”  
“Some men were more worried you’d kidnap beautiful women to start yourself a harem honestly.” You quip. It makes him laugh and shake your head at him.  
“Really? Of all the vile things I might do, they worry about polyamory?”  
“Monogamy is the bread and butter of humans-“  
“Foolishness-“  
“Says the man who fucked me as revenge for kissing a woman.” He goes silent this time, and you can tell he didn’t expect the dagger in his pride.  
“I suppose I deserve that one.”  
“And others.” He nods.  
“And others.”

The two of you remain in bed, holding each other. The issue of the baby still hovers in the morning air.   
“If I have an abortion, the grandmaster would likely press for me to join his bed.” Loki hums his agreement. “For now, me being pregnant is probably the worst and best defense I have right now.”  
“My wonder is if you _could _become pregnant, why not drug you and force you? Why allow you to take medicine preventing it?”  
“I asked the doctor about that. Turns out the drug wasn’t stopping me from getting pregnant,iIt was limiting my periods, not my fertility according to him. As for why not using force? Think Loki; the Grandmaster hates forcing people to do thing against what he sees as their will. Slaves aren’t slaves, they’re prisoners with jobs. Guests aren’t captives, they’re guests. He wants to be wanted, to be liked, so he crafts the reality around him to facilitate that.”  
Green eyes look at you in surprise.  
“What? The Grandmaster is a man who won’t rape by forcing himself on someone, so much as he’ll set them up so they end up with him. He wants to be blameless Loki. He wants to make people weak, and look only to him for power and survival.” Loki laughs at you pulling you completely into his lap.__

__“How is it that I forget you are more a fox than a mouse?” You sneer, pushing at him, not wanting this to made into a joke, which to him, it might as well have been.  
“Loki- this is serious. If we don’t do something, the grandmaster will-“  
“He won’t touch you.” That bone chilling viciousness emerges, and Loki’s hold is possessive. He leans, burying his face into the crook of your neck, breathing deeply. “For now, you will carry our child in your womb, and we will move forward with the plan.”  
“And what plan is that Loki.” You slap his arm, earning a low growl against your neck. “The whole fake wedding? For fuck’s sake, you haven’t even proposed to me yet or given me a ring- it’s no wonder the Grandmaster is getting excited. He probably thinks you’re not serious about me so when you leave, he’ll be able to-“  
“Exactly why we continue on with our plan. I insist I plan to marry you, spread the rumor around, let the Grandmaster maintain his guard.”  
“But tha-“ Loki tuts, pulling back to recline, making you slide down his body so you lay on top of him, head resting over his chest.   
“He’ll be uncertain as to my wants, more keen to see me leave than others. He’s well aware I die and Asgard comes down for vengeance, so his only choice would be to let me leave. He counts on it. But if he moves to steal you from me, he also risks my anger and wrath for seeking the hand of a woman I have professed sentiment for.”  
You huff, not wanting to argue with Loki further._ _

__“Speaking of sentiment, I don’t feel it often but right now-“ You feel him growing hard against your belly and you gasp at the fact he’s wanting sex now of all times. “-I recall how sweetly you came apart that first time I bedded you. I also recall how you tasted then.” He grins.  
“You’ve been eating a lot of fruits as of late. I cannot help but notice and wonder why.” You blush, knowing you had passively, somewhat hoped he might preform oral on you. Being told you didn’t taste good had been a tiny blow to your pride but you didn’t expect him to notice.   
Though, he had been rather insistent at meals you drink water and eat fresh fruits. _ _

__“Sit up and spread yourself for me. I want to see that glistening cunt dripping.” You gasp as his hips rock upward, his firm length, pushing into your soft belly._ _

__It’s awkward, sitting up on his legs, seeing his cock jutting up so proudly. It’s a rather magnificent cock to admire when it’s not covered in your pussy juices and ready to pound you into oblivion. Loki sees your look though, and you turn away blushing.  
“Acting like a coy maiden even after all we’ve done- you’re a delight pet.” Loki shifts, eyes moving between your legs, waiting for the show. You swallow, using your position to spread your legs comfortably open, outer lips parting. Gingerly you bring your hands down, opening yourself to his coveting gaze, letting him see your pink lips wet, parted enough so he can see your glistening pearl as well. You keep yourself spread like that, watching him stare at your sex, hear his breathing deepening and see his cock twitch. _ _

__You feel filthy showing yourself off in such an obscene display, yet another part of you relishes in how absolutely lustful Loki looks at you, how blown his eyes are with desire. How his cock throbs in the air, pre beading on the tip._ _

__Reaching out to stroke him his own hand grabs yours, stopping you. “No.” He lets your hand go, choosing to use his to move you off of him so you’re left on the bed.  
“Show me again.” You blush, once more parting your folds and revealing to Loki the evidence of your own twisted desire for him._ _

__He stalks around you ending up on the right, crawling back and laying down, green eyes not leaving the sight of you. You in turn remain as he told you to be, lips parted, hole ready and waiting to be filled.  
“Princess.” His voice is a purr against your mind, and you feel your pussy give a tiny pulse of needy want.  
“Fuck my face.” His words make you snap to look at him, an expression of hedonism and lust written over him clear as day.   
“Your majesty?” You remember to call him by the title and he groans.   
“That was an order sweet princess. Now come here and sit on my face like a good slut.” He licks his lips and your heart flutters at the sensual motion. “Your King demands it.”_ _

__Gingerly, you move over him, thighs on either side of his head, his eyes and forehead the only thing you can see of his face.  
“Grab the headboard.” You do so, leaning forward, noticing that in doing so, Loki has a view of not just your cunt, but your swaying breasts as well. You feel his breath brush over your wet folds and his voice drops into a low groan with his command.  
“Ride me my sweet princess. Feed your king and sate his hunger.” You lean down slowly, but Loki brings you down the rest of the way, his hands gripping your ass hard._ _

__The feeling of his mouth over you is incredible, his tongue shoving itself into you before pulling back, swirling around you lips and teasing at the hole begging to be filled. His lips suck on your labia greedily swallowing your juices as your body begins that wild and willing ride, preparing itself for a cock that isn’t there.  
Loki’s moans are loud and accented by the wet sounds of him sucking at you, drinking each fresh gush your body makes. Your entire body shakes as he licks and sucks, pleasure ignited like never before. Not even before Sakaar had a man ‘gone down’ on you, and you moan, eyes rolling back as you find that this is something you’d happily beg Loki to do to you, in fact, you think, he could bend you over and eat you out at the party and you’d not even care. His mouth and tongue is working magic, and your grip on the headboard tightens, arms shaking as you stay upright.  
Loki meanwhile seems to be in heaven with how enthusiastically he give your cunt such deep and deliberate attention. He sucks hard on one of your lips and you cry out in pain and pleasure. Its so new and different, it is making you fall apart. _ _

__He keeps repeating his actions, sucking hard and long on the most sensitive parts of you, and were you able to see what he saw, you’d find your pussy lips red and swollen from his abuse._ _

__But you don’t care how hard he torments you, because the way he massages your ass, the way he shoves his tongue rhythmically in and out- it is a new heaven. It’s not enough to satisfy your need to be filled, your craving for that feeling of him buried deep and threatening to spray down your insides with his cum, but with a harsh kiss to your clit, you scream is name. Pushing down with your hips as an orgasm takes your reason._ _

__Loki moans as you cover his face with your femcum, greedily lapping and drinking every drop that leaves your body. The sight of you above him, writhing in ecstasy is beautiful. Asgardian women are pleasing, but they have no true sexual abandon, their nerves not so easily coaxed to pleasure. Mortal woman are soft and sensitive, they have stamina with their ability to take and give pleasure. Mortal women moan so sweetly and fall apart under a lover’s skilled touch. Loki cannot help himself at the sight of you above him, tears running down your face, panting, breasts swaying as you grind down on his mouth, drowning him in your release._ _

__Loki adores these things about mortal women, the way they come undone and so beautifully, but you by far, are the sight that has made his ego and pride soar with how you cry his name out begging for more._ _

__You ride his face, his name chanted with each cant of your hips. One orgasm comes and is followed swiftly by a second, and your grip on the headboard falters. You slip, barely able to catch yourself with your arms, now bent over Loki as his grip on your ass keeps you from escaping, your pleasure almost becoming too much to bare._ _

__Loki Silvertongue will not stop, and as you shake and tremble with the aftermath of your second orgasm, he slaps your rear with his hand, and with it, he is rewarded with another passionate cry of his name and mouthful of your orgasm on his tongue. Your arms give out as he keeps sucking on your clit, eyes crossing as he torments you with the threat of another release._ _

__You curl your body, hips lifting, trying to escape his amorous unrelenting attentions, but he won’t let you go._ _

__You scream again, and he moans your name into your pussy, the sound of his wet slurps and swallows ringing in your ears._ _

__You’re crying even harder from the sensory overload, shaking, whimpering as Loki gently massages feeling into your legs, kissing your abused cunt like he means it. The process of moving you to lay on your back is slow, but you’re grateful for his attentiveness. His oral assault has left you reeling, and you are not sure you are fit to move, let alone walk.  
Your eyes are closed, your body heavy after so many orgasm have been pulled from it, and you don’t notice Loki’s actions until the sweet stretch of his cock slipping into you comes and sends you into a trembling spiral of pleasure once more._ _

__“Ah- ah-“ You gasp under him, your legs lifted to encircle his waist and give him access to the deeper parts of you.  
“So much- Too much. Oh god, Loki, I can’t-“ He hushes you, rocking in and out of you slowly, his own eyes closed, savoring the feeling of your tight walls milking him even before he’s brought you to another orgasm. You’re so hyper sensitive, your pussy is clenching on him tightly, and Loki relishes in how it feels even tighter than when he took you that first day. Oral sex has always been enjoyable for him, both receiving and giving. But the reward for him after he gives is so worth it. His lover, wracked with pleasure and body tight, melting and falling apart as he fucks them, intent on sending his cum as deep as their body can accept._ _

__With you however, it is a more meaningful purpose, a more meaningful reason he enjoy this. You’re pregnant with his baby, a child he never thought he would even be able to create given his heritage. For him, he cannot admit the idea of a woman swollen with his offspring, willingly, happy even to bare him an heir is beyond mere physical pleasure.  
It pleases him in a primal, carnal way that makes him want to fuck you into sweet oblivion. He wants to send his seed to your womb, ensure the child is his, ensure your fertile body accepts him and no other would be able to touch you and not know you were his and only his. To ensure you would not want any other man but him. It is why you are so radiant, so beautiful, so perfect to him in that moment; as you moan his name, and pant; desperation, passion, pleasure, longing, lust are painted so deeply on your face he almost fears he has driven you mad with pleasure.   
You will give him a child, because you’re willing to do it.   
Because you’ll do anything he asks to get off Sakaar.  
Because by the time you escape, you’ll have said yes to him, taken an oath to be his wife, and he is the Loki Allfather; he is a prince, a king, and on Asgard, to kill the unborn child of the king is a crime. To sire a child and allow it to be born out of wedlock is a crime for nobility. He first wanted to make it a farce for taking you as a wife, but each day the idea appeals to him more and more. He says he would allow you to be rid of the child, given you are a Midgardian and cannot be held to Asgardian law, but in truth it wouldn’t matter, he’d sire another on you immediately after._ _

__You are a survivalist, a pragmatic woman who is afraid yet willing to take risks and resist and fight when she can afford to do so. You are strong. A child with you would share such traits, such resilience. You would give him a strong heir. A strong, powerful, magically talented son. You would give him the one thing he needs to ensure his rule of Asgard is a long one.  
Loki’s hips move faster, and he watches your body under him, watches the way your breasts bounce, watches how your mouth parts and eyes roll back. He watches himself slide into you, your body accepting each inch without resistance, all the way to his base, the deepest parts of you kissing the tip of his cock._ _

__His green eyes roam your body as he mounts you, sends you hurtling towards another release. They pause on your flat stomach, and you feel him tense.  
His thrust is hard, hips colliding as he cums, his hot sperm flooding you down and rushing in deep. You scream his name, arching off the bed as your body seizes, pussy squeezing so tightly he isn’t sure he can pull out even if he wanted to. It’s madness as the two of you remain connected, and Loki, lust crazed, possessive, cunning, cruel and passionate Loki looks down at you and your shaking body as he drifts a hand over your belly._ _

__“Mine.” He moans, closing his eyes, relishing the idea of you swollen and ready to burst with an heir for his bloodline.  
“You’re mine.”_ _

__

__You fall back, spent, dazed and vaguely you see it yourself.  
Pregnant, heavy with an unborn child, and Loki, grinning to himself and cooing at your belly. It sends a tiny tremor through you because you realize, it’s not about having a child to him.   
It’s about having you with him.  
It’s about giving another part of you to him, and him never willing to give it back._ _


	18. An Enemy in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,  
>   And they are rich, and ransom all ill deeds.

By the time you and Loki get out of bed, shower, and dress, He’s fucked you no less than four more times. Once, against the shower wall, once while you went bent over the shower sink, and twice back on the bed in the middle of getting dressed. He was the insatiable one you told yourself, knowing it was a such a dirty lie. The reality was you like it, you liked him. You liked how he dominated you, how he could do these horrible things to you and you let him. You gave up control with sex and yet, you trusted Loki to not abuse it. It was stupid to do, but you did it anyway. 

You also know that he’s thinking about the unintentional baby you and he have made, and you are sure if you asked, he’d deny it. But his actions are telling. Touching your belly, calling you his. His need to fuck you hard and deep while muttering filth in your ear about how he knew you were receptive to his seed, he just didn’t know how receptive. How you probably wanted to get pregnant, you wanted him fucking you and fathering a child. It was all lies, but he moaned loudly when you told him he was right, you did want his cum. You wanted him to make sure it was his, make sure no one could question it was Loki of Asgard that fucked you, and it was King Loki who had the pleasure to get you pregnant.

He was a possessive man, and like many men, he thought being able to get you pregnant was some kind of great powerful thing, like he was special because he got you pregnant first. It was just another power thing for him. Men were horribly transparent and stupid sometimes. Just like how by putting on that silly golden crown of his making had Loki smiling like he was a man who’d won the lottery. Honestly, you had somewhat grown to like it.  
Plus it matched today’s gold and white dress.

The afternoon was nice, you spent your time with him for once, playing as a couple on a date while out in the city. Loki had never been, and a tiny part of you did enjoy showing him this and that. But the pair of you had your reasons for the outing. You both needed to get a better layout of the various roads. While you knew them by heart, Loki did not, and if you were to plan an escape, it would be best if you both knew where you were going.

To his credit, Loki acted like a true gentleman, escorting you by his arm, holding open doors for you as you went into shops. He didn’t once touch you sexually, and had cracked a few casual jokes as well. It was nice, of all things. In the late afternoon sun, you sat on the edge of a cliff, overlooking one of the many swaths of garbage that covered the landscape.  
“It’s not exactly pretty is it?” You ask him, leaning on a railing. “it’s sad to be honest. Things forgotten, things lost- it alls ends up here to just…”  
“Die.” Loki comes up next to you, his hand snaking around your shoulder to pull you into his side.  
“This is where things come to find their end. On a stagnant planet outside of time.” You don’t like being reminded how time doesn’t work properly here. How it’s not something that can allow you any confidence in how long you’ve been stuck in relation to where you’ve come from. It’s a small fear, a worry, that has been nagging you for a while now. Loki acted like his invasion wasn’t so recent. But maybe to him it just was?  
“Master?” You maintain the title in public. He hums, looking over at you, eyes away from the largest gateway while something large crashes through.  
“When you arrived- do you know what year it was on Midgar- I mean-Earth?” He chuckles a bit at you calling your own planet by his word for it. No doubt he finds it endearing that after so long not talking about Earth, having it referred to as Midgard has become easier in a sense.   
“Why do you ask? It’s not like you’ve been here long. Two years, even by your own race’s standards, is not entirely horrid. Bad certainly, but not by much.” He sees you beseeching look and smirks. “But what will you do for me if I tell you?” He’s being an asshole, and he knows it. You scowl, making his grin widen. “Come on princess, nothing is free here on Sakaar remember?”

You huff at him, turning to press your body to his. You slide your leg up and down his own, and can feel him hardening though his trousers and your dress. Slipping your hand down, you cup his erection, looking at him in the eyes.  
“I’m need to know your majesty.” You stroke him once, and that combined with the title of his makes his pupils widen considerably.  
“You play a dangerous game pet.”  
“Sakaar is dangerous. But if just such a tiny thing costs me something-“ You lift your head up, licking his neck before reaching up to nibble on his ear. He shudders, groaning and hips giving a tiny thrust into your palm.  
“Gregorian or Lunar?” He huffs, his own hands squeezing on your hips, spinning your bodies so no one can see you palming him through his clothes.   
“Gregorian.” You purr, your fingers going up, playing at the waistband and ties. Loki pushes into you harder.  
“Minx. It was 2018 on Midgard last I knew. Just after their new year.” You still, and Loki looks down at you. “Pet, I do hope you intend to finish what you started.”

You can’t. When you arrived on Sakaar it was just two months after Loki’s invasion. Which placed you-  
“I’ve been here over two years.” You pull back, eyes downcast as you process the information.  
“Royal, what are you talking about?” You look at him, and can feel the panic rising.  
“If its 2018, I haven’t been on Sakaar two years.” You tell him. “I’ve been here over five years.” The King of Asgard looks at you a bit shocked by the sudden statement.   
“That is… slightly longer of a time than one would wish to be exiled from their home given your race’s lifespan.” He sounds like he’s speaking from experience. Maybe he is. 

You take in a shaky breath, falling forward into his chest, breathing deeply of his scent. He still smells like the first time you met him. Salt sea breeze, the hints of wine and spices. Its strange and yet good.   
“I didn’t know. I mean, I knew time flowed differently but-“ You pull away, knowing this weak moment wouldn’t be tolerated for long. You’re right, as looking back to Loki, he seems a bit uneasy with your sudden faltering over something so trivial to him.  
“I’m sorry.” His grin covers whatever else he’s feeling as he pushes his hips to your own.  
“Oh, I’m hardly going to complain. You clinging to me like you need me is so delicious. It makes me wonder if you’d hold me so close if I took you to the lions den as they saying goes on your planet.”  
You take the obvious bait. He’s going for distraction, and you are glad for it.

“I’ll bite.” You say, shifting to get out of his less than innocent hold on your hips. “What do you mean lion’s den?” His fingers dance on your sides, causing you to squirm. It’s ticklish, and you guess he notices because he keeps doing it.  
“The grandmaster has invited me to a private party onboard his fastest ship.” You groan. You know this plan the second Loki brings it up. You’ve seen this dozens of time before.  
“The Commodore. And let me guess he plans on showing you something.”  
“Yes the- wait.” His fingers stop their ticklish torment. “How-“  
The look you give him is incredulous. This is the man that wanted to rule your planet and couldn’t even figure out the most basic scheme.   
“He’s asking you to go so you’ll be stuck on a ship with him pumped full of aphrodisiacs for several hours.”  
“And you know this how?” You push off and away from Loki. He’s incredibly quick footed, but often not entirely aware of the messes he walks into and creates for himself.  
“It’s what he does with everyone he wants but can’t get otherwise.”  
“And he’s done it with you? I was told-“  
“I stabbed myself in the leg. Made it look like an accident. He panicked and took me back for medical. I was lucky only because he was still semi sober at the time. Had I waited, he’d have been too drugged out to care. It’s happened to others before.” You close yourself off to him, crossing your arms. Its not a subject you like discussing, you near brushes with death and violation.

Loki closes the distance to touch you but you swat his hand away, earning you a scowl.  
“Tell the Grandmaster something came up.” Loki is frustrated at your order.   
“I cannot exactly just tell the man I’m not going. Not after accepting the invite. It will be annoying and… disturbing yes but I can just cast an illusion-“  
“Tell him you want to propose to me.” Loki chokes physically on his words.   
“Pardon?”  
“We have two weeks Loki. Two weeks until Korg initiates his rebellion. We need to make sure that you and I are together when that happens. The easiest way is-“ You wave your hand at him.  
“The whole marriage affair. Frankly I just-“ You sigh, hands falling to your sides.

“I just wonder if you even realize the risks here. You act serious one moment, then like it’s a game the next. You are cruel to me and demand my obedience but then you turn around and, and, and-“  
“Seduce you?” You shoot him a withering look, but he’s still smiling, still looking at you like your annoyance is funny.   
“This isn’t a game Loki! I swore I’d do anything, anything, to get home. I’ve fucked you everyday, I’ve let you beat me, rape me, hurt me just so long as you keep me safe from them, so long as you get me home. You may think this is funny- using a weak mortal woman for your needs while you scheme to escape and take your time to do so. But I don’t have time Loki!” You feel hot angry tears at your eyes.   
“If they get me, they’ll keep me alive to keep me suffering. I’m dying here. I will die here. You’re my chance, my only chance to be free and I don’t know-“ You’re having a full blown panic attack. 

You don’t even realize it until Loki has pulled you into his arms, and you feel a strange shift in the air around you. You’re not in the city anymore, you’re back in his rooms.  
“What-“  
“Teleporting is not a skill I use frequently pet, but I won’t have you bawling like a child in public.” He scoffs, moving to the bar and your anger comes in force.

“A child? A CHILD?” You grab a pillow from the sofa and throw it at him. It bounces harmlessly off his back, but he turns and faces you, face in complete shock.  
“I’M PREGNANT LOKI! I JUST FOUND OUT THE ONLY REASON I’VE BEEN KEPT AROUND IS BECAUSE THE GRANDMASTER WANTS TO BREED ME! I JUST FOUND OUT THREE YEARS OF MY LIFE ARE MISSING! I HAVE FOUGHT AND FOUGHT JUST TO STAY ALIVE AND I’VE GIVEN UP EVERYTHING FOR A CHANCE, ONE TINY SMALL FRACTION OF A CHANCE THAT I CAN TRUST YOU TO GET ME HOME! I’M GIVING YOU EVERYTHING JUST FOR THE TINIEST CHANCE YOU DIDN’T LIE TO ME!” 

Your screaming ends as you fall to the floor, sobbing, your entire body is pain. You’ve kept your fears, your feelings, your hopes trapped up for so long. You’ve given Loki so much and he doesn’t get it. He’s a god. Powerful, nigh immortal. He can afford years to plan and plot and scheme. But you can’t. You don’t have time.   
“I’m doing everything you want, and you don’t even care.”

You hear him set down a glass to the counter, his footsteps getting closer before you see them in front of you.  
“Get up Royal.” His voice is cold. And you anticipate he’s going to punish you. Hurt you. Maybe even publicly rape you again just to prove a point.  
You look up to the god of Lies, and he is furious. “I said get UP!” His yell is cruel and demanding and you scramble to stand, sniffling back tears. His hand shoots out, grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“I said I would get you off of Sakaar and take you to where you belonged. But if you continue to act like you belong here, a weak, pandering maid who’s only skills are party tricks and lies then here you will stay.”   
You see red. He’s wrong- you’re not weak, you’re not some pandering maid, you have gotten this far, and he’s a bastard to pretend that isn’t true.  
You slap his face as hard as you can.

His head snaps to the right, and your palm throbs from the pain of the impact.

Loki is still, hand on your chin, threatening.  
His breathing is heavy, and you wonder if this is it, he’ll snap. He’ll stop pretending he cares, that he wants you for more than a convenient fuck.

His kiss is brutal and punishing, hands grabbing your dress and ripping it in half, off you body.  
“You stupid, arrogant mortal harlot!” He shouts though his kisses. You are angry with him, so angry. You claw at his clothes, pulling them off his body on instinct. You want his flesh. You want to drag your nails in his skin and make him bleed.  
“You think I won’t honor my word? I chose you. All those fools and I chose you and you said yes. You accepted this, you wanted this.” He’s right. He’s right and you hate him, wrapping a leg around his hip.  
“And you don’t belong on your precious Earth, not anymore, not after this, not after all you’ve done.” He thrusts into you sharply, making you scream at the sudden fullness. You were wet, soaking wet. Why? Why did his cruelty, his violence arouse you?

“You belong with me. A lying, scheming woman who is willing to do anything, sacrifice anything, to get what she wants.” Loki thrusts quickly, and you cling to him, nails in his back, wet warmth bubbling at your fingertips.  
“You gave yourself to me remember? You’re mine now. Your Body-“ He hilts himself, grinding your clit with his pubic bone.  
“-Your mind-“ He pulls back, eyes a green you’ve never seen before, a look you cannot place.  
“Your heart-“ He slams back in and you keen, orgasming from his rough treatment.  
“It’s mine!”   
His cum fills you, seeping out of where you’re joined, dripping onto the floor.

“And you’re a fool to think I do not care. I will get us off this rock and if you do not trust me?” He pulls out of you, his arms keeping you trapped, pressed to his body.  
“Trust the fact I need you, more than you likely know.”

Loki storms out of the room as you fall in heap. Sperm trickles out of your abused hole, gathering under your legs in the small puddle the pair of you had made together. You begin crying once again, wondering where his lies begin, and if he means it.  
If he actually does care.


	19. Returning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When thou shalt be disposed to set me light  
> And place my merit in the eye of scorn,  
> Upon thy side against myself I’ll fight,  
> And prove thee virtuous, though thou art forsworn.

You sleep alone that night. And the next night. And the night after that. A total of three days pass and not hide nor hair of Loki is found. Each morning you wake up alone in a cold bed, the only communication you have with him in the form of notes he leaves along with a chosen dress on the vanity. The notes hold instructions, and after you read them, you burn them. You wear the dress Loki has selected, and wear the horned circlet.  
It had almost become comforting, a gentle weight. Now it was an oppressive reminder of the man who had all but said he cared for you but would also own you like a prized possession. A man who had, in the face of your fears, told you they were pointless, and to trust him when he confessed he lied to you.  
Loki never had plans to take you to earth. His plan had always been to use you, and then to take you where he saw fit. If he planned to take you at all. But his possessiveness wouldn’t let him abandon you, not anymore. Not while the tiny beginning of life was in your womb and held half of his DNA. 

Pregnancy you decided, sucked.

With just 9 days left before Korg’s rebellion, you had to work fast. Loki had been keen on getting keys to the supply bays, but you had a better, more viable plan. Loading a ship in a short period of time would be difficult, and no matter what, you’d likely not have the time during the escape to grab everything. Loading a ship over time however, bit by bit, was rather unnoticeable, and, would ensure most needed supplies would be on board. 

Loki’s list of supplies had included diapers and baby food.  
You had looked at, and told yourself you would rather die than give birth alone on a spacecraft. Sorry Loki, but you would sooner cut out your womb than allow your escape to take longer than 9 months. Besides, in taking the Stella, a ship just slightly slower than the flashy Commodore, you’d be able to reach distant galaxies in days, weeks at the most. The Stella was also better because it had a gun. You didn’t know jack shit about space travel, but having a gun sounded like a better idea that a fireworks button or a sex bed button like the damn yellow monstrosity. 

Which, as you discovered, Loki had been on, and had apparently slept with several women and men on. A fact that a few other guests seems happy to tell you, a few even saying they’d experienced his attentions. You had smiled at them, and joked that he was a great lover, you just hoped he had been sure to use protection, after all you joked, you’d been on the shot and now you were pregnant!

But it was a lie. They talked of his flawless skin, his clean cut length, his amazing gushing orgasms. The Loki who’d taken you to bed had scars. He was uncut, and his orgasms were multiple but not ‘puddle forming’. The man wasn’t a horse, (though in myth he’d been fucked by one. Something you regret not asking him about). Loki hadn’t been fucking anyone else, he’d used his magic, he’d lied to them.

Yet you felt a sting of betrayal all the same. 

The separation of you and Loki was not unnoticed by the Grandmaster, who when he found you, grabbing you by the shoulder and would walk around with you, talking of Sakaar’s recent developments, his plans for the future, his legacy.  
He liked to talk about his legacy to you, and you always noticed how he’d look at your flat belly, smile, then keep talking. The Grandmaster smiled each time it happened, as if telling you that soon, Loki would be away, and he’d have you to himself. That soon, it would be his child inside of you, not Loki’s.  
When the Grandmaster inevitably got distracted you’d escape, darting off into throngs of people, slinking away in shadows. You feared being alone with him, just as much as the other recent development. 

142 had taken to helping you, something that was out of character for the normally self invested drunk. She had told you she knew of the Grandmaster’s want, your ability to conceive and carry a child. She sympathized, saying she only has escaped his eyes because her race had such a low fertility rate she might as well have been sterile. And she could will herself to have an abortion.  
Asgardians were fucking assholes.

Still, she’d gone from a vague friend who comforted you on occasion to a full blow aid in your efforts to see the Stella accurately stocked and readied. She’d managed to brake a part of it which would take exactly a week to repair, meaning that it wouldn’t be touched by the Grandmaster. She also had helped you get keys to various sections of the tower by distracting a guard… or five. Men, even alien men, liked thinking a woman was interested. Even if that woman actually preferred women.

The reason you worried most about 142’s involvement was the same reason you worried about everything else as of late.  
Loki might not have been near, but he was very much aware of what you managed to do, his notes changing depending on what you managed to accomplish in the day or not. And he had reacted badly to 142’s kiss before. And now...

You really worry because as she pulled you into a narrow hallway, you felt yourself curling into her touch, craving intimacy again, Loki’s touch having made you realize how long you’d been without and how good it felt just to be touched. She’s pulled you in to avoid two patrolling guards, but the feeling of her chest pressed to your own, her hands on your hips, straddling her thigh- it was close, too close. You wanted more, and it scared you. 

“You okay sweetheart?” She asked. She’d started calling you sweetheart too. Her eyes were so warm, so kind and hopeful when she called you sweetheart, like she wanted you to want her, like she knew you feared being with Loki.  
“I’m... fine.” A lie. Lying came easy with 142. She trusted you too much. Perhaps because when you lied, it never hurt her. It never crossed her mind that you would lie to her. Loki was different. Lying to him felt wrong, and even so, he always would know if you did.  
“Good, hate to have to patch you up from a rough ride.” Her hand slapped you rear and you let out a yelp of surprise. A glare, she laughed. It was such a loud laugh too. Brash and full of the fearlessness only one so confident could possess.  
“So I have been meaning to ask-“ her hands traced lazy circles in your thighs and you let her, enjoying the gentle touch. “-that Loki of your’s, you’re certain he’s the king?” You tell her yes, having already gone over this with her. She found the whole Thor and Loki debacle of New York a funny thing. This time though, the line of questioning seemed different.  
“It bothers me. Asgard’s king doesn’t leave Asgard unless it’s for war. Loki didn’t come with an army, much less is Sakaar of any importance to the Nine realms, so him being here-“ She trails off. You were grateful to her, she’d opened up a bit and told you yes, she was an Asgaridan once upon a time, a warrior of renown even. But apparently Odin had a daughter who had been exiled after killing 142’s squadron among other things. It was a sad story, and made sense as to why she left her world and drank away part of her life on Sakaar. She’d made you swear not to tell, especially not Loki.  
“I assume that he was doing something outside of his role as King, fucked up, and landed here. I mean, he grabbed me the first day he arrived to help him escape.” 142 nods.  
“Just be on your toes. Odin was an ass and would happily throw away even the most loyal if it meant getting what he wanted. I doubt his son is any different.”  
Odin was an Asgardian and as you knew, Asgardians were assholes. 

Kissing 142 chastely on the cheek you went back up to Loki’s rooms, not expecting him there.  
What you got was a fully naked Loki backside, standing behind the counter, a cup of alcohol in hand.

“Princess.” He smiled, lifting his glass and turning to look at you and step into view.  
Loki has an erection.  
More importantly, his erection is supporting a dick piercing. Not just one either. Several. 

“What the hell?” Is the first thing out of your mouth, causing your mercurial lover to frown.  
“I thought you’d be overjoyed, such things are exceptionally stimulating for women and I haven’t had one for a few centuries, so I figured I was overdue. Besides, I wanted to see if you would cum even faster if I had it.” It’s a dydoe. Of all the dick piercing the man could have gotten, he got dydoe. 

You doubt he’s wrong about the orgasm part but-  
“Is this why I haven’t seen you in almost a week?” You half scream at him, he sighs.  
“This, and the fact I knew if I saw you, I’d want to do less than kind things to you.” You're torn. On one hand, this is utterly ridiculous, the man got his cock pierced while planning to escape a planet just because he wanted better sex, and on the other hand he’d left with no warning or explanation and just expected you to go along with it all so he'd not hurt you.

You’re angry, emotionally hurt, and worse, you want him back. You miss him. It’s so foolish to miss a man who abuses you but you do.  
“You’re a pervert.”  
“We established that the first time we were together pet.” He walks over, taking your hand to walk you back to the bed room.  
“You’re also an asshole.” He hums, undoing the fastening of your dress while you begin your rant.  
“I have a breakdown, freak out about the news that I'm pregnant, that time has me fucked, and you kept being evasive and your response was to fuck me and then ditch me. What in god’s name-“  
“Your god’s name is Loki my pet.” The dress slides down your shoulder, pooling at your feet. The bra and panties likely are what stop him from going further. You’re wearing them again, given the lack of his need these last few days.

You unhook the bar and tug the panties down for him.  
“You hurt me.”  
“I did,” He kisses your bare shoulder and you sigh, leaning into his body behind you, “because I feared you did not understand that what we are is fleeting. If we begin to believe the lie, the truth will only hurt us more.” He’s talking about love. About how you felt love for him, but he called it lie. How you said you did, but he said you didn’t.  
“And is that so bad?” His words ghost over your neck.  
“It is worse than you can even imagine.” A kiss to you neck and he begins what you know is his way of apology.

“Get on the bed, on your back. Tonight, we’ll be trying something new.” You eyes glance down to the glittering gold piercings.  
“I heal faster than a mortal man, and depending on how well you enjoy them, I might keep them. But, they are not new. New is something else.” A flicker of light in the corner of you eye, you see various candles light up, silk ribbons pooled around them. His words the first time he bedded you coming back.

“Perversions?” You ask, Loki smirks as you slink into the position he wants. You spread your legs, knees bent to give him an unobstructed view of your pussy, already wet with desire.  
“Do they excite you my princess?” Your hands reach down between your legs, parting slick folds so he can see your pink hole, your tiny pearl.

“See for yourself.”  
Loki throws the glass to the wall where it shatters yet you don’t even give it a passing though. All you care about is that he’s back, and his eyes are dark with the promise of rapture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, there is a reason for everything I do.


	20. Deciding on the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who all their parts of me to thee did give;  
> That due of many now is thine alone.  
>   Their images I loved I view in thee,  
>   And thou, all they, hast all the all of me.

Loki’s looks of dark lust only served to spark that ember inside you, that part that craved being controlled and giving up yourself so completely to another. Something he’d pulled from you by force, yet now you foolishly trusted him with every time he took you to bed. Your fingers playing at your slit, your other hand reaches up, grabbing your breast and kneading it slowly, helping build your arousal. From the way your lover looks at you, you guess it’s working him up as well.  
“Keep doing that pet, your master has to get a few things ready for you.” As Loki turned to work the ropes you closed your eyes, imagining the ways he’d take you tonight. It had been a week without, and you doubted gentle was on the agenda. No, the bonds and wax told you exactly what kind of night was in store for you. Loki was going to dominate you and fuck you hard- work out his lust into your quivering willing body and you’d let him. 

A moan slips out of you and you feel his hand come to touch your wrist. Eyes open to see him, looming above you, a twisted smile on his face. “Look at you-“he lifts your hand from your folds, your fingers wet with slick. Loki doesn’t waste the opportunity, sucking your digits free of your arousal.  
“Still so sweet for me. I bet you’ve been keeping up with your little diet change, haven’t you?” You whimper as he strokes the back of your hand, his gaze penetrating.  
“Answer me pet.”  
You let out a shaking breath, letting your legs fall to the bed, there isn’t a need for you to tease yourself anymore, Loki is doing that well enough for you with his simple touch.  
“Yes master.” Your reward is his kiss, a smooth transition from leisurely to hard and controlling. His tongue slips into your mouth without resistance, and the sharp tang of your own flavor is passed to you in a erotic trade of desire.

The kiss ends and you’re left breathless as your master lifts you up, moving you to sit on your knees, arms behind you back.  
“Stay still princess, I want to make sure nothing is where it shouldn’t be.” Loki’s hands on your skin turn cool and the shiver that races down your spin pools between your legs. Silk ribbons glide over your body, slowly being pulled taught as he binds you up like a prize. He kisses you everywhere as he does, tiny little glimmers of pleasure while he makes sure you are bound and unable to break the hold. It’s thrilling.

Done with your bonds, Loki steps back to appreciate the sight of you and you can see it pleases him in the way his gaze lingers, the way it grazes over you, coveting.  
Silk has been wound on your wrists, meaning your only leverage will have to come from balance and upper body strength. Your breasts are wrapped so the silk has lifted them up and together, a crude mockery of a bra. All the ribbons wrap here and there, baring your body while concealing strips of it. Your personal curiosity is the one on your neck, not tight or made to choke you, but to grab and hold like reins.  
“This is how you belong my princess.” Loki begins to walk over to the candles, picking one up and letting a bit of the wax trail down.

“Bound and helpless to me, having to wait on my tender mercies and whims. Do you like it?” He pushes slightly on your spine, making you lean forward until you’re bowing in the middle of the bed.  
“Do you like being mine?”  
The first drop of wax hurts, a burn that isn’t a burn and makes you gasp in shock. Drop after drop he lets the hot wax decorate you skin as you gasp and whimper out affirmations. You love being bound for his pleasure, you love being his, you are his princess, only his. Loki moans each time you say it. His, his his. The wax cools, tiny dots litter your backside as you shake. Your pussy is throbbing, begging to be filled, to have him anchor your pain and pleasure as one.  
“My sweet princess, why are you shaking?” His voice is all seduction, all danger, yet you play along, lifting your ass into the air.  
“I need-“ Wax drips down onto your rear and you yelp.  
“Tell me princess, tell you what you want from you king.” You feel his fingers touch your pussy and you cry out, thrusting into his hand.  
“You- Fuck!” His hand pulls away abruptly, and sudden you feel small splash of the hot wax collide with your back. It hurts but immediately, Loki’s cool hands are there, soothing the red skin.  
“You need me? Or you need my cock? My hands?” The coolness of one palm leaves only to collide with your ass in a harsh spank.  
“What. Do. You. Want?” He punctuates every word with a spank, the sound of flesh hitting flesh ringing in your ears. He’s hardly touched you, let alone even fingered you yet here you are, writhing like a whore, begging for him to fuck you like you are one. 

“You!” You scream for him and are rewarded with him lifting your hips and thrusting inside you in one swift motion. A week without his massive cock and your pussy is tight, gripping down on the intruder while gushing forth your juices to allow him deep. You feel the new additions, the tiny bumps of the piercings rubbing along your walls and it’s almost enough to send you over the edge right there.  
“Fuck me! Fuck me Loki!” You try to push into his hips, but Loki has other plans, grapping you by the makeshift silk collar he made and pulling you back so your entire torso is in the air at his mercy.  
“You want me? All of me princess? You want what I can give you?” He’s yelling, hips slamming and sending his cock plundering into your body. Its punishing in it’s pace but you love it- he’s brute strength is there but not in pain- it’s in the way he’s holding up your torso, his quick thrusts, his effortless ability to angle you both so his cock is brushing your g-spot with each pass.

“Yes! YES!” You cry in pleasure, tears running down your face as a week of nothing after a week of everything comes to you as a form of intense sexual whiplash.  
“Fuck me master! My king! Fuck me, put your baby in me!” You swear you can feel Loki’s entire body go cold as he stills inside you for a moment.

The payoff for your filthy mouth is Loki thrusting in deep, spraying your walls down with an onslaught of cum.  
“You want my children? To have the honor, the privilege to give me heirs?” He fucks you like a man possessed letting go of the ribbon to push you down into the bed, your hips high- you want to believe you can feel his cum tricking into your very womb.  
As the pair of you shake in the aftermath of the orgasm you hear him.  
“You’re the first who’s earned the right.” He pulls out, warm cum tricking out of your hole to slip down your thighs. Loki isn’t done however, he’s far from done.

He flips you swiftly, your body not even finished bouncing before he’s above you, a candle in hand and eyes burning with lust.  
“I wonder how they’ll look.” His breathing is ragged and deep as he tilts the candle, wax stinging pleasantly on your bare stomach. You twitch under him, and he laughs as you whimper and whine from the tiny beads of wax cooling all over your body. You shoulders, your collarbone, your neck, your cheek- He stops decorating you for a moment, only to bring over a large candle, a pool of wax by the flame. Slowly, he tilts it over your chest, the molten wax making you scream as it hits your breasts, making you thrash in pain and want. Loki watches you the entire time, transfixed on your expressions of pain and pleasure, agony and euphoria. 

He can’t help himself as he slips inside you moaning when he takes another candle and repeats the process on your belly, your pussy contracting and twitching around him while you scream his name, begging for him to stop. For him to keep going. For him to fuck you.

He obliges.  
“I am such a kind king, giving you all my cum. You’re so lucky, no one else gets what I give you, no one else pleases me so much.” You are panting arching your back as he languidly thrusts, relishing in how you react to the pain while he teases you at the edge of pleasure.  
“Accept me.” His words ring in your skull and you feel something inside you growing.  
“Let me in.” His thrusts are good, each time he hits your g-spot and you know you can’t fight the pleasure, the pending orgasm that nears.  
“Trust me.” You are chanting his name, over and over.  
“Surrender to me.” You’re so close, just a tiny bit more.  
“Be mine.” Your vision goes white as you scream, your pussy squeezing down on him as Loki fills you with an unholy amount of release, the feeling of it gushing out of you because of just how much. 

You’re left shaking in a pool of sweat, cum, dried wax and tears. You’re floating on clouds, and as Loki coos how good you were, how sweet, how perfect, you don’t feel like moving. All you can do is moan his name, let him do as he desires.  
Soon the silk ties are gone, and Loki is picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom, gently setting you in the tub and turning on the water. His entire body feels cool while yours feels so hot. Red dots litter your skin, and your nipples are tender and sensitive after the abuse. Yet Loki is attentive, rubbing you softly with a towel and bathing you with a soap that smells of sandalwood. 

“My darling Royal, you were magnificent.” You look up at him, tired yet feeling for the first time in a while, content.  
“You submit so perfectly.” He cups your chin and the two of you kiss, moaning into each other’s mouths.  
“So strong, so brave and fearless to trust me so much. You’re all I could want in a woman.” You see something dark in his face, something that makes your heart race. It is not the look of possession, of need. It’s a look of finality. The look a man has when he won’t be denied.

“Is it wrong of me to hope they’ll have your eyes?” He asks, pulling you out of the tub and walking you back to the bed room.  
New clean sheets- you assume it is his magic. “Your eyes, my hair. I wouldn’t mind if they had your skin, but my own complexion is fine I suppose.” You realize what he’s talking about and you place a hand on your belly as he lays you down. It feels like a dream. What is going on- why is he saying-

“Sleep my sweet princess.” You see strands of gold leave his fingers, wrapping around your head as sleep drags you down.  
“My mortal love.” You almost don’t hear him say it, but that final word follows you into your dreams.

He called you his love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks. I have switched from tragedies to sonnets as you might have noticed a while back. Sorry for the missed day, I am kind of trying to get ready for a move soon to a new part of town. I started a Pateron and Ko-fi if you'd like to support me while this is going on or if you'd just like to do that kind of thing.  
> You can find my Pateron here: https://www.patreon.com/StolenVampires  
> And my Ko-fi here: https://ko-fi.com/stolenvampires
> 
> You'll also realize who the hell I am. As always, thanks for sticking with me on this wild ride that is 'Loki finds out he's got a fetish part whatever'.


	21. The Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly,  
> Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy?

Waking up in a god’s embrace is becoming a thing you find a small comfort in. Two years of being alone, save for the sparse nights when 142 would cuddle and chase away the loneness made the stark contrast of Loki’s adore all the more prominent. He’d come in and demanded so much from you but in a strange and twisted way, had given you things you didn’t even realize you had been missing. You missed waking up with someone, having someone you could trust, to hold and not be afraid they would push you away.  
Granted, Loki was not the most sustainable man to have a relationship with, it was still small comforts of being human that he gave you. 

Smiling, despite of it all, you pushed further into his embrace, a tiny thrill racing up your spine as you felt him hardening against your rear. Last night had been- something.  
You’d fallen into bed so easily with him, acting like a week of nothing was just that-nothing. But now you had only a few days until Korg would make his move down in the gladiator pits, and while the ship you’d chosen was on schedule, you hadn’t any clue as to how much Loki knew of what you’d been doing. You also had the new mess of 142’s kindness and your own blatant return of affection for her in the form of a chaste kiss. You hadn’t forgotten the action, and you doubted she would either. Worst of that whole thing was you felt guilty. Like you’d cheated on Loki. Betrayed him somehow. It was a strange and unwelcome emotion you didn’t want, not for the god of lies. 

You sigh to yourself, trying to enjoy the moment of peace and respite, knowing that once your lover woke, he’d likely either want to fuck again, or be wanting answers. As your thoughts turned to the actions of the previous night, you blushed thinking of why he’d been away. Dick piercings were all the rage on Sakaar, true, but did he really have to get them? And, he’d mentioned having them before too so why bother? Were you not stimulating enough in bed? Did he think he wasn’t good enough in bed? They felt great, sure, but they somehow felt wrong. 

“Mmm.” The low rumble from the man currently in your thoughts makes you realize that the semi-erect cock pressed to your backside is now fully hard, and nudging gently at the cleft of your ass. It’s embarrassing to feel the bubbling arousal in you given everything currently going on, but-  
You bit your lip, lifting your body up so his cock rests right against the gap of your thighs, all that’s needed to allow him in is a tiny bit of direction. Direction you provide, a hand snaking down as you lift your leg, slowly moving as to not wake him.

The feeling of him slipping in from behind is wonderful torment, as only his thick head manages to penetrate you. Biting your lip to stifle the moans you make, you grind back on his cock, a poor mockery of him fucking you while your fingers play with your clit. It’s wrong to take advantage of him, it’s rape without his consent but-  
“So needy princess.” The growl you feel against your neck make you suck in a breath. He’s awake, and he slowly begins a leisurely pace gliding in and out of you by the smallest increments.  
“I am glad you are willing to take what you want.” He lifts your leg a bit more, allowing him to thrust deeper, enjoy more of your slick heat. For you, the pleasure is fast building, your fingers not stopping their gentle assault on your clit.  
“It’s an attractive attribute in a bride. Now keep touching yourself pet.” He slides deep, and you whimper as he whispers into your neck.  
“Come apart for me.” You push firmer on your clit- the pressure is almost too much. It doesn’t take too long before you’re a wiggling mess, and at the cusp of orgasm.  
“Let go.”

His command is softly spoken, yet it makes you cry out into the pillows, your body tensing as you cum with him firmly inside of you, his own release following with a contented sigh.

Panting, you lay in the bed as he pulls out, rolling onto his back and pulling you with him so you can speak face to face, (flush as though you might be).  
“Good morning princess.” You open and close your mouth, trying to talk after what has been thus far the most relaxed sex you’ve had.  
“Morning your majesty.” Loki closes his eyes, a smile on his face with you endearment- if one could call it that.  
“I could get used to this.” You don’t understand what he means before he’s getting up, a quick kiss all he leaves you with before heading to the bathroom. It’s almost like nothing has changed.  
Like he didn’t call you his love.

It’s only as you dress that you begin talking again, discussing what you’ve accomplished. He seems somewhat impressed with your preparations, up until-  
“And you really think this scrapper plans to let you go for nothing?” He is upset about your involvement with her.  
“I’m just…” He’s glaring, “I’m flirting with her, using her, and besides she offers. Is it wrong of me to take advantage?” The short answer is yes, the long answer is one you don’t want to think about.  
“She will expect payment.” He grouses, not looking to punish you yet obviously. But you can see his anger there in his eyes, the same anger that came back in the form of your public violation.  
“Yes- if she thinks that I will pay her in my body however, she will be sorely mistaken. You’re the one who owns my body remember?” As you slip on the dress, you don’t catch the look Loki has on his face. When you do look at him, you realize he’s decided about something.

“Pay her.”  
You stare dumbly at him. He surely can’t mean to have sex with her? This is Loki, the man who wanted to control you down to your very tears.  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“You are.”  
“What?”  
“Pardoned. I understand it must sound odd, but that is my demand. Pay her for her services with the services you might offer.” You look at him like he’s grown a second head. You don’t trust it, not at all.  
“And if I don’t like women?” Loki frowns a bit and then it clicks. “Oh my god, you want to watch.” He muffles a laugh, but a tiny flicker is there. A bit of mischief.  
“Yes, your god wills you to go fuck the scrapper.”  
You stare at him blankly. You knew he’d been gone almost a week but no man changes that quick, not even one and mercurial as Loki.  
“For Norn’s sake woman,” Did Loki just curse at you? “Is it really so strange the idea of you and another woman arouses me? Her attraction to you is as you have shown, valuable in getting her to do your bidding. Sex with her will make her all the more willing to aid us.” He cursed at you. That's a first.  
“Aid me.” You clarify. “She thinks you're a lying-“ You stop, noting that he’s not showing any signs of anger and it’s entire unsettling.  
“Oh please do tell me what the rabble calls me.” You glare, gathering your courage.  
“A lying, manipulative bastard of Odin.” He laughs outright, walking over and placing a small kiss on your forehead.  
“Correct on almost every account. I’m Laufey’s bastard, not Odin’s.” You’re scowling harder, and Loki seems happy to torment you further with this strange twist of events.  
“Why the change? First you punish me for her kissing me, now I confess I kissed her and you want me to sleep with her?” Loki nods. “I just- why?”  
“The same reason I went and got the piercings. Pleasure.” You blush, looking down at his clothes legs before the blush worsens.  
“Oh sweet princess, I adore how you can still be so bashful. I removed them actually. They failed to enhance our pleasure as I thought they might. Still, the wounds will heal by evening and you won’t have to worry about them hitting your teeth the next time I need certain-“ He purrs, “-services.” You bat his hands off of you.

“So-“ You begin, “-do I bring her here? Tonight? You- you’ll only let it happen if you can watch right?”  
“Tomorrow night. I have plans for you this evening.” You know what he means. And he has the gall to wink at you before gesturing to his legs. Damn him and his libido.

You sigh, giving up trying to understand the fickle god’s wants and desires.

At the Gladiator match however, Loki is telegraphing very very clearly what he wants and what he wants is to get as far away from the Hulk as possible.  
“That beast is here. We need to leave.” You are reeling. Apparently, in a rushed explanation, the Hulk had been the one to ‘best him’ when he’d attacked your planet, and the god wasn’t exactly keen on facing him again.  
“Loki- he’s Bruce Banner, one of the smartest men on earth-“  
“Well, I don’t know about you, but that looks less a man and more a creature!” He’s panicking with his looks back to the viewing window, the pair of you huddled in a corner away from the match.  
“I don’t care if he gave you a booboo once, he could help us!”  
“It wasn’t a ‘booboo’, he slammed me into a foot of solid concrete several times!” Oh well, that certainly must have hurt. Still, Loki is pasing on a golden opportunity.  
“He’s an avenger!” You hiss.  
“Yes, one of earth’s mightiest heroes which if you seemed to have missed the memo, I am an enemy of.” He hisses back.

“You’re being stubborn.” Loki is too spooked to be angry with your arguing, and later, you’ll be glad for it, but right now, all you can see is a very strong, very smart ally potentially waiting for your help to escape back to earth with you. As soon as the thought hits you however, you remember Loki’s words. You don’t belong on earth anymore. If you went back, you’d likely never be accepted for making the devil deal with Loki, and with knowing what you did of places outside of earth, could you ever reintegrate without feeling so… alone? You’re a human who’s survived an alien planet. Not exactly a common thing for humans in general.

“I know you think it is a good idea, but it is not. The beast is rudimentary at best, and once the Grandmaster sees the beast’s human side, you think he will survive much longer?” Loki has a small point but you can’t give up. You will take every opportunity. Every chance to be free of Sakaar.  
“I want to try at least, the worst that can happen is-“  
“Is the beast KILLS you Royal, did you consider that?” The use of your name, even if your fake one startles you. Loki is afraid, and not just for himself. You can use this to your advantage.

“Let me try and I’ll let you fuck me in public.” His eyes widen. That certainly caught his attention.  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“You are.” Repeating his little quip right back at him, earning you an admonishing look.  
“Let me go down, try to talk to him, to get him on our side, and I’ll let you fuck me anywhere you like, any time you like- one time per visit.” Loki is staring at you, and you know he’s considering it. Power displays entice him, and fucking you in front of the Grandmaster would be the ultimate power move.  
“I get to partake of your body as I please and-“ Loki’s smile is wicked, “-you agree to go along with our next act as the fair maid in love.” You don’t know what that entirely means but-

“Deal.”

Loki winks and pulls you back to the crowd, now cheering, the match over. The Hulk has won and his enemy... Well, his enemy certainly has shown his smashing abilities off. As the Grandmaster swaggers in the crowd you feel Loki begin to place kisses only you neck, the sudden show of affection making you blush. You realize why he does it, because like a hawk, the Grandmaster seems to have sense the sexual tension and arrived.

“How are my two love birds doing? Besides each other of course. Oh and how is little Loki Jr? Getting enough food? Topaz get something healthy for our Royal won’t you?” Oh how you do love seeing Topaz being ordered around like a servant. The woman’s snarl at you is almost threatening, if it were not for the fact Loki and the Grandmaster would both have her dead before you were harmed.

“I must say, the match was spectacular.” Loki begins. “It gave me a bit of a rush, watching a life be ended so brutally. Not but a few small motions and then? Nothing. Death swift and tragic.” His hand squeezes your side and you get the hint. He does not like or wholly approve your wanting to bargain with the Hulk.  
“I know, just why I love these matches! Give a bit of a thrill you know?” He cants his hips slightly to you, his eyes… fluttering, (if one could call it that), towards you.  
“Yes, just why I can’t wait any longer.” Loki spins you in his arms, and you’re confused all for a moment.

In front of your face is a beautiful gold ring. The knots remind you of his armor embellishments, and the dark emerald sparkles in the hazy light of the room.

Loki, the God of Lies, Mischief and Chaos is _proposing_ to you.  
“Dearest Royal, will you grant me the honor of becoming my wife?” He pulls the ring out of it’s velvet case and holds it for you. “Will you be my princess?” His words hang in the air, heavy and oppressive to you and you feel something against the back of your mind, something clawing, wanting to dig in and not let go. “My queen?”

You realize what he meant earlier by going with the next act, and forcing tears and a smile you wrap your arms around his neck.  
“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!” He grins, kissing you deeply while the Grandmaster and his guests cheer all around you. 

You feel the darkness sinking in, holding you tight, marking you, binding you, and you feel fear as you figure out why; your lover is dipping you, not letting his hold diminish as he drinks in your moan and sigh.

Loki had been entirely serious.  
He intended to make you his queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started a Pateron and Ko-fi if you'd like to support me while this is going on or if you'd just like to do that kind of thing.  
> You can find my Pateron here: https://www.patreon.com/StolenVampires  
> And my Ko-fi here: https://ko-fi.com/stolenvampires
> 
>  
> 
> I foreshadowed this fuckers- we're gonna have a smashing time now my dudes.


	22. Begin and End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care  
> Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are.

To say the Grandmaster held a party over the ‘engagement’ would be an understatement.  
The bastard had a damn festival started for it. Free food, drinks, and merriment for everyone. Your face and Loki’s were plastered all over the place, and you wanted to strangle the god who had laughed and talked of your and his ‘plans’ for post-marital sex.  
Which should have pissed you off more because he was so openly talking about your sex life, but it wasn’t like it was a secret with how often and how… enjoyable you and he fucked like rabbits. Still, the fame was an obvious blow to your cover- if people hadn’t known you before, they certainly knew you now. The entire plan was compromised now- if 142 won’t help you with the ship, you might be entirely out of luck. Unlike Loki, you can’t just make yourself vanish on a whim.

Dragging Loki back to his rooms is a task, and you do so as the party begins to devolve into another orgy, the Grandmaster seeking to have the two of you show everyone your ‘passion’. You told the Grandmaster he has his video to watch if he likes, you have Loki, and prefer the solitude of rooms to engage in more intimate acts.  
The bastard has just smiled, winking at you with a ‘oh you’ll participate one day Royal’.  
You’d cut out your tongue and drown in blood first.

Loki still let you pull him away, slightly tipsy and being a fair amount more affectionate that normal. Normally, he’d touch here and there, tonight his hands were roaming.  
“You’re upset with me again.” He growls in the lift, his hand down the front of your dress, palming your breast while he nibbled sinfully on a spot under you ear. You can’t help the tiny pleased whimpers leaving you. Loki knows your body too well, and he’s using your little trick of sex to placate back on you.  
“I do hate it when you get like this.” You push at him weakly as the lift stops on his floor.  
“Loki-“  
“I love how you say my name.” He groans, grinding his covered length against you, “Say it again.”  
“Loki we need to get inside-“  
He pulls away just so he can lift you into his arms, the sudden movement making you yelp in alarm and cling to him. “Oh pet, I will most definitely be inside of you.” The world lurches, and suddenly you’re back in his bedroom. 

He tosses you on the bed as you scream his name, your dress gone with a wave of his magic leaving you naked and him-  
Well, Loki is wearing less armor and what you guess is more formal Asgardian attire? It’s ornate leatherwork, a few armor pieces but not like you’ve seen before.  
He’s also wearing a modified version of his helmet, this one letting his hair flow freely. You hate how the sight of it makes your body give a little gush of arousal, hoping twistedly that he plans to fuck you like that.

“Loki we have to talk-“ He pushes a finger to your lips and shushes you.  
“Not tonight my sweet princess. Tonight I want to show you exactly what to expect from your King. What my queen should expect.” His hands ghost over your neck, sliding down to cup your breasts in his hands.  
“You-“ He was serious then, you were right in your fear and realization. “You can’t make me your queen.” His green eyes flick their hungry gaze from your chest to your face.  
“Why not my delicious little pet? You agreed to it did you not?”  
“Yes but-“  
“And you agree that having my heir is better than risking you falling into the Grandmaster’s grasp.”  
“Yes but Loki I-“  
“And also, what did you say you were?” His hands squeeze your flesh and you gasp. “Mine. You love me my princess.” You blush. He said not to say it, to not admit it.  
“And I am a selfish man. I want that love and I don’t want to see it shared. You belong to me and no other.” You pull back from him a sudden motherly fear you didn’t know you have rising up, a hand over you belly protectively. Loki looks at you like he’s watching you, solving some riddle that has plagued him for days.  
“Ah, my sweet, our children can have a bit of your love, but your devotion, your adoration, that- now that is all mine.” His darkness creeps into his eyes. 

“I’m human.” You say, as if such a thing would deter him.  
“Not forever. Once we reach Asgard I’ll hand feed Idunn’s apples to you, watch as your body changes to Aseir. How radiant you’ll be- A newly awoken goddess, plagued by none of your human weaknesses.” Loki’s possessive behavior ran deeper than you imagined. He’s talking of making you immortal. Of-  
“The fertility and sensitivity of a human woman, the resilience and lifespan of an Aseir. Oh, what fun we will have my pet.” 

He means to make you his wife. Not just for the plan to escape Sakaar, but forever.  
His queen. Mother of his children.  
He wants to make you his for eternity.

You’re shaking on the bed, arousal gone, replaced by a cold fear.  
“Did you ever plan to take me back to earth?” You ask, voice cracking as he climbs into the bed after you. A predator stalking his prey.  
“No.” His hand snaps out grabbing your wrist. “I planned to keep you, a concubine to serve my needs until I grew tired of you. But then the more I thought about it-“ He pulls you to him, his other hand stroked your flat belly.  
“I knew you could carry my child. I already was fond of your resistance, your fortitude, your fire and will. The kind of woman who would bend under me in public, and challenge me, match me in bed.” He knew- he knew you could conceive the entire time. The revelation grips you in horror. His grip tightens as he forced you down on the bed. You pull at his grip, wanting to get away. This isn’t happening. Not again. Not when you thought he didn’t want you like this, that he was lying. But this is the truth. He warned you. His love is cruelty. His love is pain. His love is fixation, obsession.  
Loki’s love is his twisted need for possession of you and everything you are. 

“I need a legitimate heir to the throne. A son to rule in Jotunheim, a son to rule Asgard, a son for each realm I will command.” He growls into your neck, grabbing you and forcing you under him as you begin to cry.  
“A son to rule Midgard, his mother’s most beloved home.” 

You don’t have time to react as he thrusts in, your body’s residual wetness making it bearable. But It doesn’t matter to him, because Loki gives you no time to breathe, to recover. His hips slam into your own fast and hard, his pace punishing as he fucks you into the mattress.  
“Once, I would have let you go.” He growls, arms pinned to the bed you turn your face from him, hot tears making it to hard too see, to painful to look at his lust crazed face.  
“I would have had my fill then sent you away. But you gave yourself over so sweetly, so wholly, I wanted you, craved you. Like a poison you’ve taken hold of me my princess.” He moans deep as he hilts himself, grinding so his pelvis hits your clit. His outfit rubs your skin to the point it’s painful, and you want him off. This is Loki the monster, Loki the man who’s cruelty is only matched by his absolute malice.  
“I adore the way you react my love.” Your breath hitches. He called you his love. He’s lost himself you know, lost himself to this twisted version of you he’s crafted.  
“Princess I called you, to tease you, seduce you, but then how lovely I thought, would you be as mine? Sitting by my side, commanding armies and judging the fools who dare violate my law. So clever you are, so pragmatic- You had all the makings of royalty. Of being a perfect queen.” 

His thrusts speed up and you scream at him, beg him to stop. This isn’t right, he doesn’t want you as a queen, he can’t-  
“You said yes my sweet princess. My darling pet.” He lets your arms go as he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.  
“My Queen-“ 

Your name, your real name falls from his lips as your orgasm comes unwanted, as he follows you, his cock filling your body with his essence. 

You weep in his arms as he keeps thrusting, cock still hard, his clothing bruising you where it bumps and rubs your bare skin. Over and over he fucks you, again and again releasing his seed into your body. All you can do is lay limp under him, weeping, listening to him coo over your tears, your lost betrayed expression, your pain and fear. 

He told you to trust him once. Trust that he loved you. That he cared for you.  
_He’d lied._  
He’d tricked you into falling in love with him, just like he said. Used your desperation to twist your need for freedom into a need for him, for his love. He lied to you from the start while telling you a horrid truth.

Loki never loved the woman you were.  
Loki loved the woman he’d made you become.


	23. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For never-resting time leads summer on  
> To hideous winter and confounds him there,

You’re numb as you wake up, the man who sleeps beside you is smiling, contented, well rested. You are sore, tender, a scattering of bruises from aggression unwanted. Loki was once the man you would have called lover. A man you would have called ally. Now he’s your tormentor. Your owner, your master-  
Your rapist.

The thought comes and you sob to yourself, shaking in the bed, pulling the soiled sheets closer to you body. He’d been so far gone last night that he’d not cared if you both slept in filth, in remnants of sex. He’d violated you over and over, forcing pleasure on you body until you couldn’t take it anymore. You passed out twice on him, and he still hadn’t stopped. He’d hit you, yelling for you to remain awake, to sing for him.  
Your song was a death wail, a scream from the depths of your soul.  
He’d drawn his pleasure from it all the same.

Sniffling back the tears you gingerly move, wanting to go to the bathroom, to clean, to rid yourself from the memory of him, the feeling of his skin on your’s. But fate loathed your freedom, and Loki grabs your wrist pulling you back onto the bed, his voice that one that once made your body react with anticipation, now making you shake in fear.  
“Doesn’t my pet want her breakfast?” He purrs, pushing you down until your face is level with his cock, already hard.  
You can’t help how you moan as he fucks your mouth, how even in his rape he manages to make you feel these sparks of passion and pleasure.

Finished with you soon enough, Loki takes you to the shower with him, bathing your body gently, kissing tender skin and the marks he’s left on you. Like he is silently apologizing for his behavior. But it’s a ruse. He isn’t sorry- he’s raped you before and you trusted him to not repeat himself. Your trust was misplaced, just like he warned you it was.  
Clean, he picks out your dress, this one a rich purple with gold lace, and he takes some joy in lacing the top and brushing your hair. The intimacy is forced upon you, and you can do nothing but allow it, allow him. He ends his torment by placing the circlet on you, the tiny curved horns to match his own. 

You want to throw up. He planned it. All of it. How long had he known, wanted, calculated. He had manipulated you controlled you, guided each action to lead to this.  
Your breathing is erratic and Loki notices, his hand gripping your arm tightly. “Princess.” He purrs, the darkness in his eyes making you whimper. “Go speak to your Midgardian beast and see if you cannot reason with it to aid us. Do try not to get yourself killed.” He grins.  
“Necromancy is such a chore.” Your eyes widen.  
“You would-“  
“I told you my love,” He cups your chin, holding your gaze. “You are mine and no one will take you from me.” There is madness in his eyes. “Not even death.”

He smiles wickedly, leaving you shaking and trying not to vomit from horror. 

You stay like that, frozen in terror, clutching your midsection as you try to wrest back control. Block out the horrors, the truths, the traumas. You need to get off Sakaar. Get off Sakaar, then break free from Loki. He say’s he’s king on Asgard-  
Every king has his loyal subjects, every king has snakes in his garden. Loki might be the king, but you are human- made of resilience, determination, conviction. You will not bow to him, _you will not kneel_.

It is exactly 2pm. The Hulk has spacious rooms, champion he is named, and champion he is treated. You’re hesitant to approach, the green being well over three times your size and currently eating a gourd that is the size of your own head. He’s not guarded, his door is like many- the semi transparent electrical fields that hold back those with the electronic control modules. 

“Um-“ You tentatively approach the open entryway, hoping to at least get his attention before you step past the only safety barrier between you and a being that is known a ‘angry’ and ‘violent’.  
Which ironically, could be said about Loki as well. Best not to dwell on that fact.  
“Hulk?” You question, and the green being’s head turns to you, mouth full of food, his eyes narrow and he stand up, lumbering to you, tossing the gourd to the ground and wiping his face.

“What you want?” He speaks- and he doesn’t seem angry just annoyed.  
“I- well. Hello.” You tentatively reach a hand past the barrier- a handshake. “I’m Royal.” His brows furrow as he looks at your outstretched hand, which barely could wrap around a finger of his own. “From Earth.” 

That gets Hulk’s attention like lightning. “Not earth. Sakaar.” He is glaring, yet you keep your hand outstretched.  
“I’m not lying. I’m from earth. I got here by accident and-“ You notice then a large gash on his arm, its barely scabbed over. “Oh my god are you alright?” You step into the room, not thinking, moving around him to look at the wound, no doubt from that day’s match.

The Hulk is staring at you like you’re a giant green being made from a gamma radiation accident.  
“Hulk fine tiny girl.” You look up at him.  
“My name- I-“ You swallow, feeling uncertain. “You can call me Royal you know. That’s what everyone calls me here.”  
He walks back to what you assume is his bed, sitting on it and grabbing another fruit from a large bowl.  
“What call you on earth?” You look at him, and feel that longing, that desperate need to feel home. Familiarity, and in a strange way, seeing the Hulk, a man who you don’t know in the slightest only from videoclips, he fills a tiny part of that void inside of you.  
“(y/n).” You realize he’s the first person you’ve told your name to willingly. The first time you’ve spoken it out loud. Not even with Loki have you used your real name. He grunts biting into the flesh of the fruit and eating. You stand there near the entry, and gingerly remove the horned circlet. You’re almost surprised he didn’t comment on it, but, many on Sakaar wore strange things.

“I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m sorry. This was foolish. I should-“ The Hulk is watching you with keen interest, and you’re not sure why. Suddenly, he reaches into his fruit bowl and pulls out something. He turns to you and even at a distance, you can see what it is. It’s a pear. Comically small on his large hands, “Here. Hulk share.”

You want to cry. It’s such a simple gesture. An act of kindness from a being so many would call a monster. You blink back tears and go to him, climbing into the bed and taking the offered fruit. A few stray sniffles leave you but you look up at him and smile.  
“Thank you.”

The Hulk nods and resumes his eating. The pair of you chew in silence, and you remain next to him, enjoying the silent companionship as he finishes with two more fruits. When done he looks down at you.  
“Why stay? Humans scared of Hulk.” You nod. There isn’t a point in lying to him.  
“Because I wanted to- meet you I suppose. I hope I might speak to Mr. Banner to ask if he might help me escape but-“ The Hulk shifts next to you, his frown easy to spot forming at the mention of Bruce Banner.  
“You’re not Mr. Banner.”  
“Banner gone. Only Hulk now.” He snorts, getting up and moving to a pile of weapons in the corner.  
“Humans hate Hulk. Only want Banner.” He’s becoming agitated, defensive, and you’ve dealt with enough deadly, volatile being to realize what not to say and what to do.  
This time, you got against everything, and speak your mind.  
“I’m scared of you, that doesn’t mean I hate you.” You speak softly, but perhaps the Hulk has super hearing because his head lifts and he looks at you.  
“Humans hate Hulk.” You’re the one scowling now.  
“I don’t.”  
“Hate Hulk. Want Banner.”  
“Of course I want to speak to Banner, but that does not mean I hate you. I wouldn’t be here if I did.” You stand up off the bed, trying your best to not be intimidated by the way he stomps over to you.  
“Liar.”  
That, of all things, sets you off.

You hit him. You hit the Hulk with an open palm across his face when he leans in to accuse you of lying. 

To the Hulk’s credit, you doubt he’s hurt so much as stunned as you realize what you’ve done, running out of the room and back behind the barrier, grabbing the circlet on your way out.  
“I don’t lie.” You hiss, glaring at him. “I want to go home, back to earth, but I need Mr. Banner’s help.” You clarify for him.  
“I need the Hulk’s help.” You turn and almost run away, hearing nothing from the being that supposedly was controlled by nothing but his rage.

You’re on your way back to Loki’s rooms when you feel sick, realizing that you’ve just accepted being his plaything, his possession. Like an obedient pet you go back to your cage. You’d go back to him, where he’d violate you, control you, hurt you. You swallow your sickness back, stopping the lift at your old rooms. Loki didn’t have the code needed to get in, or the key. Only 142 had that, and she didn’t trust Asgardian nobility. She cared- and perhaps, you were leading her on, but she’d understand wouldn’t she? She would maybe even protect you from Loki if it came down to it. You just need a refuge, a place away from the god you would own you for eternity.

Breathing deeply, you find your old suite easily, punching in the code to open the door without a key, smiling as it unlocks.

Stepping in, you expect to find it relatively messy, what with a scrapper living in it the past week or so. But as you cross the threshold to a neat and tiny apartment, you see her, smiling, drink in hand.  
And next to her, is Loki, grinning as you hear the door slide shut behind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor hint to the next chapter:  
> So thou, thyself out-going in thy noon,  
>   Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son.
> 
>  **Update:** It's come to my attention that we hit 10k hits, over 100 comments, and almost 50 bookmarks! I'm honored everyone likes this fic so much. I wrote a rather sad AU ending to this fic and plan to write another AU offshoot soon to celebrate, (which will be 10x less sad and angsty i swear). Thank you so much for supporting me in this, and I hope I continue to make you guys happy with the fic!


	24. Trade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So thou, thyself out-going in thy noon,  
>   Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains f/f so please feel free to skip if you are adverse.

You don’t realize you’re shaking until 142 comes up to you her breath smelling of sweet wine and her hair smelling of something floral- jasmine perhaps?  
“Royal! I didn’t expect you to- Ohhhh” She turned to Loki, who was smirking, eyes raking over your form like he would devour you on the spot. “Did you plan this you cheeky bastard?” He winks at her. Winks.  
“Hardly. I actually did not expect my dear princess to be here. She stays with me now so-“ The implication might be missed by 142 who accepts it at face value but you know. You know what he means as his eyes grow dark with cruel promise.  
He expected you back in his rooms. The fact you’d come here for the night told him all he needed to know.  
“Princess? Don’t you mean queen now your majesty?” She sneers, her drunken state making it no doubt hard for her to mask his distaste of him. Still, why was he here with her in the first place, much less, why had she tolerated him?  
“In due time. The ceremony will be small and intimate. The Grandmaster will have his party, but we both would prefer something more subdued.” !42 hums.  
“Why not wait till you’re on Asgard?” He chuckles walking over to you, guiding you back to sit on his lap. Just like an obedient pet.

“The trip will be long, and I’d rather my child be legitimate.” His hand rolls over your belly and you feel nausea rising. You mask it well, because 142 is watching you both, her face scrunched up trying to figure something out.  
“Speaking of, we would be honored if you would be one to witness our union. To have a Valkyrie as my darling’s shield maiden would be a lovely gift.”  
You look at Loki, confusion evident. You knew he moved fast but it still didn’t add up. Why involve 142?  
“ A shield maiden is akin to your Midgardian maid of honor. She is the one to protect your virtue on the wedding day.” He smirks, hand fondling you belly, “not that there is much virtue left in you.”  
You shudder and nod. He needs the wedding now you know, because the grandmaster still thinks he has a chance, and he’s said it himself. He needs a legitimate heir. The wedding would be under the cover of the rebellion. Chaos, you’d slip away. 

142 keeps looking at you with lusting eyes, and Loki’s own dark look makes you squirm under his hands. Loki came here for a reason, and he’s baiting 142 with you. Why. You had been using her infatuation to help you so why-  
“She knows my sweet pet.” He croons in you ear. “She’s agreed to help us both. For a small fee.” His kiss is soft on the space under your ear. The gasp that leaves you is quick and you moan helplessly when he starts sucking on the sensitive flesh. “Tonight, we’re going to indulge you and satisfy ourselves.” 

You mewl as his hands reach up pulling the top of your dress down roughly, breasts falling free to 142’s gaze. She drinks down the remainder of the bottle in her hand before she leans in, face tinged pink.  
“Hey, Royal.” Her hand slips into your hair, gently rubbing your scalp while Loki continues his ministrations on your neck.  
“I’m going to kiss you.” She does, the taste of alcohol with that hauntingly familiar buzz of heavy aphrodisiacs hit your mouth and you moan into her kiss. It’s not like how Loki kisses, all demanding and dominating. 142 is slow, guiding you while she sucks on your tongue. You’re not sure what happens first, Loki lifting your head and feeding you more of the drugged alcohol from his own mouth or 142 or you reaching for the straps of your dress; it's suddenly too hot, you're wanting for things you hated. As you swallow the drink and drug, Loki undoes the laces of your dress and you feel it slip off your body to pool around your feet. 

Somewhere in your strip, 142 has removed her own top, soft breasts plush and pushing against your own chest. “Royal.” Your name is a prayer on her lips as she tugs you into her arms, feeling up your back while Loki strips behind you, eventually his naked chest pressing to your own. You’re drugged, you know it. Two Asgardians have you between them, both under the drug’s thrall along with alcohol as well. Your entire body is growing more and more aroused and all you can manage is to think if you have to be raped again-  
“Bed.” 142 lets your lips go long enough to get the word out, and with a growl, Loki picks you up and carried yo to what was once your bedroom.

It’s in that deep violet the Grandmaster thought you loved, a small vase of dried wildflowers sits by the window. A few pretty rocks on a dresser along with a few jewelry pieces. Its so spartan it reminds you how detached you were from this place, how transient you considered it all. The thoughts are ripped away as Loki sets you on the bed his gaze black and wanting while 142 is at his back, her nails running down his chest. Together, you can feel their lust, that darkness in them both of a different flavor.  
“Take her.” Loki’s voice is uncharacteristically dark, as he steps back, letting 142 crawl over you, her clothing entirely gone now. In your haze you wonder how different it will be with a woman. How will you bring each other? Fill each other?

She starts simple, kissing your mouth, sucking on your lips till they are swollen, well loved. Over your chest she marks you with her mouth, sucking on your breasts while her fingers play between your thighs. You don’t need the attention, you clit is already swollen with need, what you want is something inside you, something hard and thick and long. You want to be fucked. You want- need-

You cry out as her fingers thrust into your cunt with a squish. She pumps her fingers in and out of your rapidly, sucking on your breasts hard, the mix of pain and pleasure sending you over the edge in a gush. 142 purrs pulling her fingers free, sticky strands of your fem cum coating her hand. You watch while she licks her hand clean before you become bold. Kissing her, you taste that semi tart sweet taste of your own pussy and you wonder if she tastes like you.

You know of how to 69, but have never done so, much less with a woman. Still, you guide her down onto the bed, climbing up and crawling between her legs your own glistening cunt dripping down your thighs.

Her pussy is just as wet as your own, dark skin so different but pink past her folds all the same. Dipping your tongue in experimentally, you moan loudly. She tastes just like cream. Sweet and lush, you swirl your tongue between her folds, lapping up her juices, swallowing each fresh drop her body gives to you. You can’t help it, she is divine. How could Loki want you when he could have something like this? Soon enough your face is buried in her soft curls, sucking on her clit. You write out numbers and letters into her core, moaning as she keeps feeding you her essence. 

Meanwhile, 142 is a mess, your pussy dripping into her open mouth. Unbeknownst to you, Loki is watching, fixated in the pair of you. His hand stroking his cock with firm long strokes. He has no plans to join you yet, he wanted you to surrender before he takes you like you need to be. You feel 142 shaking, her clit pulsing on your tongue when she begins, her mouth lifting up to suck on your own soaked cunt. You cry out in shock before sucking on 142’s clit harder, earning you a long moan from the woman. Soon, sounds of you both eating each other out fill the room, but as you drip and gush your sweet feminine cream for your friend, you’re taken by surprise as she cums into your mouth, a mouthful of creamy delicious femcum your reward for a job well done. She shakes and relents her assault on your abused clit, moaning your name as she takes her time to come down from her high.  
The second she has her second wind however, she attacks you with vigor, determines to make you cum into her hungry mouth. It doesn’t take long, and when she slips a finger in you fall apart, crying as your entire body shakes from over stimulated pleasure. 

As you collapse onto pf 142 she laughs, rolling you off before grinning. “You’re sweet,” she says, “I’m so glad he said he’d share.” You look to the man she’s speaking of, and you see him nude, cock hard and covered in his spend. He masturbated to the sight of you and 142 and somehow, you feel pleased in the knowledge you can do that to him. But a tiny part of him wonders why he'd share with her, he'd always said he wouldn't.

You don’t have long to admire him or even think however as he growls at the pair of you. “Do you want her mouth or her cunt?” He asks, and 142 hums.  
“Take her cunt, I want to feel you fucking her on top of me.” You’re not sure you understand them but as they move you around like a pliant doll, you think you know what they want. Your pussy is flush with 142’s own, your juices mixing and making you whimper for a lack of cock. Your pathetic lusty craving doesn’t last long as Loki comes from behind you, filling you with one swift thrust.

It descends to madness from their. You’re fucked by your god while 142 rides you from below, her cunt rubbing your own, fluids mixing and being fucked into each other. You are swept into hard hungry kisses from 142, spanked into happy whimpers by Loki, driven to the brink as they fuck you. The first time he fills you up, 142 takes control, moving to scissor you, Loki’s cum slipping into her own soaked pussy.  
Your mind begins to grow hazy as they continue fucking you with abandon, eventually you black out as Loki takes you against a wall.

You remember waking, watching Loki fuck 142. He’s saying something to her about heirs and she’s moaning soft refusals at him. Things get fuzzy again, you remember waking up to her eating you out, his cock down your throat. You pass out? Black out? You remember a scream and then, blissful nothingness.  
When you wake, the drug having run it’s course, you’re back in his room and in his arms. Loki carries a few love marks as you do. You’re numb and tired sighing and curling back into his arm, his chest.

You don’t notice the bloody daggers in the bathroom sink, only that Loki is holding you softly, and you wish moments like this would last forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can anyone guess what Loki did and why? >:3c


	25. Rewards Unspoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do I envy' those jacks that nimble leap  
> To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,  
> Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,  
> At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand.

When you woke in his arms again, you felt sick. He’d drugged you, violated you again. Worse, he’d whored you out to 142.  
142, the woman you saw as something like a friend.  
142, who had knowingly, willingly, raped you as well. 

You fought the urge to wretch, to ignore the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. But as he roused from his sleep, he pulled you closer, nuzzling into your hair with a murmured ‘morning princess’. As you remained still, letting him get up and do as we wanted you expected a repeat of the day before, forced down to pleasure him. Yet it didn’t come. Instead he got up and walked to your side of the bed, voice deceptively calm and gentle.   
“Get up my sweet one, we have business to attend to.” You swallowed again, bile in the back of your throat when you thought to the night before.

The shower was like the previous day’s. Tender touches, soft kisses on your skin. He was treating you like you were made of glass. Perhaps, after everything, you were. He seemed oddly pleased though, and you couldn’t disconcert why. The dress selected, he took a strange pleasure in zipping you into it, kissing bare shoulders and your neck. When he stood behind you, hands circling your waist you realized why he was being so gentle, attentive. His baby was in you, he needed it to survive. Did he even know human biology?   
“After last night, I think you deserve... a break.” He hummed his words into the skin of your neck. “I’ve been demanding I know, cruel even. I haven’t been attentive as I should have been- what a poor king am I neglecting my lovely bride to be.” His hands play in your hair as he guides you back to the living room, sitting you on the couch as he fetches you a small plate of fruits. You ignore the yellow apples, a move that draws a tiny smirk to the corner of Loki’s lips.  
“Are you going to be silent to me forever my love?”  
“I thought we weren’t supposed to love.” You cold reply sets him off kilter for a moment, green eyes blinking in confusion before he laughs.

“No, no we weren’t. Yet here we are.” He sits beside you pulling you against him as you eat the peach like fruit he’d brought you.   
“I am fond of you Royal. My love-“ He scoffs, perhaps at the situation or maybe even himself, “-my love is my love. I try, though I recognize it mustn’t seem like it, to be good to you. I will keep my promises to you.” He goes silent, stroking the top of your head as you eat.  
“Even if I become what I was born to be, I will keep my promises to you.” His mouth opens as if to speak more but he closes it. You hum at him, the peach pit set down on the plate much to his obvious disgust.   
“You’re a monster. You’ve raped me. Hurt me.” You don’t care anymore. He will bring you pain. His apologies are lies. He’s the God of Lies, and he’s twisted you so much you still believe him when he says he’ll keep all those promises.

There will be no making love under moonlight. No starlight on your skin. No sweet freedom he will give you because all he ever promised was freedom from Sakaar, never from him.   
“I did.” His voice is soft. “One day, I hope you will accept me.” He doesn’t ask forgiveness. He knows you won’t give it to him. He wants acceptance and-  
“It’s okay.” You look up at this man, this broken god. This being made of chaos, mischief and lies. Someone who is used to violence and cruelty as his second nature, who will do anything to get what he wants, to achieve the results he desires.   
You kiss him.   
It’s soft and short, but even after it all, you are still grateful to him. Without him, you’d have never found out the Grandmaster’s desires and plans for you. Without him, you’d still be trying for scraps to get by. Without him, yes, there would be less pain, less hurt, but the day before he’d arrived you knew what had begun. Your will to live had been fading fast. A slow, unseen death. His cruelty, his promises, as dark and as twisted as they were still offered a hope. That sliver of hope had given you back what you’d lost. He’d given you a reason to live. Loki, God of Lies, your master, your tormentor, your rapist and lover, had given you back hope. He had given you something, even after saying he had taken a part of you and never give it back. He’d still given you hope. 

Your hand ghosts over you belly, a surge of desire to protect it welling up, unwanted.   
A reason to live.

You kiss him again.  
“I know.” You know he can never be kind, not entirely. Moments like this are the ones he uses to manipulate you, to lie to you, to himself. If his desire of you had been a lie, he’d never have taken things this far. He’d have never been so possessive. He does want you, in his way, he cares for you. It’s why he does this, why he talks of it like this. This is his greatest trick, the most beautiful lie. The lies even he wants to believe in.  
“I know Loki.” You kiss him again and he responds in kind. A gentle exploration of tongues, a soft tug on your lip from insistent teeth.  
“It’s okay.” You whisper, falling into his arms. His kisses in these moments are so sweet, loving. You let yourself fall into their lie. “I see you.” 

He kisses you and you feel something wet against you face for a moment before he pulls back, eyes fever bright.  
“Relax today Royal.” He brushes hair from your face and- “I’ll be having the wedding things finalized today. The ship is ready- all that is left now is to wait.”

He gets up and leaves you alone on the couch. You reach up to your face, and you feel that small spot of wetness.   
His eyes had been wet, not your own.   
Loki had been crying.  
Why?  
You stare at the small wet mark on your finger, unable to find an answer.  
 _Why had he cried when you kissed him?_


	26. Safety in Dangerous Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred:  
>   Ere you were born was beauty’s summer dead.

You went to se the Hulk again. This time, you made sure to leave the circlet Loki was oh so fond of you wearing back in his apartment, yet his ring sat on your finger. No matter how hard you would try to remove it, it never budged. You suspected it was magic, but, it also was a good defense from would be suitors who didn’t care for ‘monogamy’ or ‘loyalty’. When you reached the champion’s room, you were surprised to find him polishing his helmet.  
“Hulk?” You asked at the doorway, not wishing to startle him. He also might recall the slap and well.. be upset to say the least.  
His head shot up, frowning as he went back to his helmet.  
“Tiny girl.” 

“Royal.” You correct him. He seems to be ignoring you, but you need to get his help, you have to try. “I’m sorry I hit you the other day.” This seems to be the right thing to say, the shock on Hulk’s face easy to reach as he huffs going back to polishing his armor.  
“Hulk fine. Tiny girl not hurt Hulk.” You take it he’s fine with your presence, and you gingerly enter the room. His gaze lifts up for a moment before dropping. You figure that the best course of action to be honest with him. Sincere. He’s not cruel or a monster so much as just… Hulk. His actions aren’t hidden or the like. He’s sincere, so you should be as well.  
Gathering a rag you pick up one of the rather large bracers from his armor pile, dragging it with you to sit beside him, the task of polishing armor taken up in silent companionship. This lasts for several hours but, it’s nice. You’re not afraid, just a sort of peaceful relaxation with a being that doesn’t actively want anything from you.

“Hulk sorry.” He says after the 3rd hour of your silence. “Not Liar. Hulk sorry.” Your mouth opens. The apology made tears spring to your eyes and you try to chase them away.  
“It’s okay.” You reach out your hand touching his arm gently. He flinches, you do not miss the action. “You were upset. I forgive you.” You sniff back the unshed tears, and it’s hulk who notices.  
“Why tiny girl sad?” You don’t know if he’ll understand. You smile as much as you can.  
“Because that’s the first time someone has said they’re sorry to and-“ Loki didn’t mean it, not entirely. “-You meant it. That means a lot to me.” You take a deep breath, going back to the armor.  
Perhaps because you were so vague, or maybe the Hulk is genuinely curious he asks. “How end up here. Sakaar.” You blink, looking up at the closest thing to human you’ve encountered in two years.  
“It’s a long story but-“ You tell him.

You tell him everything.

About the Grandmaster, about surviving, hiding, about Loki. Yet even at the mention of Loki, the Hulk remains pensive, the only thing he does is pick you up, (which had been shocking) and setting you in his lap. It’s not sexual, but rather, his arm around you, it’s strangely protective, as if Hulk is try to assure you he won’t hurt you. That’s you’re safe. The thought alone made your heart hurt. This being so many called a monster and fears was showing you more kindness and compassion that so many, than you’d felt in so long.  
When you’re tale ends, the Hulk is rocking you back and forth soothingly, your own body shaking as you finish retelling of your recent rape at Loki and 142’s hand.  
“Angry girl.” He called her. 142 is angry girl. He wasn’t wrong. Yet when you told him, you could tell he was sad. Perhaps he’d found a small friendship with her as well. Hearing that someone you liked had violated another was certainly painful. 

“Thank you.” You say, moving to get up and leave. Even if the Hulk can’t or won’t help you escape, his silent listening, his companionship is a greater gift than he must know. “It’s getting late. If I don’t go back, he’ll come for me.” He never has, but you’ve never been late before. After last night, and him discovering your intent to leave his bed, you fear what would happen if you did not show up.

You couldn’t have anticipated the Hulk’s reaction.  
As soon as you hit the floor, Hulk is roaring, stomping past you to block the exit. “TINY GIRL STAY.” You gasp, eyes wide, a spear of fear running through you. He knows it, and immodestly his posture becomes less hostile, less aggressive. “Tiny girl stay. Puny god won’t hurt. Not while Hulk here.” He understood.  
_He understood._  
Hulk, for all people thought of his as stupid, understood that if you went back all Loki would do is hurt you again. You can’t help it. He’s kind. Hulk, the thing so many fear, is kind. He’s gentle even as he comes next to you, picking you up in his arms as you weep.  
“I’m scared. I’m so scared. He wants me to- to be his and I can’t. I can’t do it, Sakaar might kill me but what he does, what he’s doing to me-.” You sob harder, entire body shaking as the emotions come out in horrible overwhelming waves.  
“I’m sacred. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be raped again. I can’t I can’t-“ Hulk encases you with his own body, warm and strong. You sob, clinging to him, a mess as tears and snot hitting his chest.  
“Hulk protect you. Hulk keep safe.” You hiccup as you stare up at him through watery eyes. He’s kind, he’s sincere.  
“Hulk avenger. Hulk not let puny god hurt friend.” Friend. He was calling you his friend. Your sobs start again, not from sorrow and fear, but from a simple overwhelmed feeling in your chest. He’s honest. He thinks of you as friend. You, a liar, a manipulative thief who would whore herself to a crazed alien god just for the chance of a false freedom. 

The Hulk is calling you his friend and says he will protect you. And you believe him. You trust him. 

“Thank you.” You whisper as the sobs die down, you are regaining control. “Thank you thank you-“ The Hulk nods, carrying you to the bed, setting you down like you’re made of glass. The juxtaposition between Loki’s coveting touch and the Hulk’s caring one is as clear to you as night and day.  
“Can-“ You suck in a breath. “Can I stay here? Just for tonight?” The hulk nods.  
“Hulk take floor.” You blink at him and before your words register, you speak.  
“The bed is big enough we can share.” He freezes, eyes full of confusion and an emotion that cuts you. It’s fear. You realize that perhaps, this kind person has simply come to expect rejection, fear. To be offered something as simple of a bed means more to him that you would know.  
“Hulk big.” He says, as if this is a good excuse. Yet the pain in his eyes is real, and you can’t let him feel that pain. Not when he’s helped you heal a bit of your own.  
“It’s okay.” You reach out and he once again flinches from your touch. “It’s a big bed and I’m tiny. We both need to sleep.” You grab his wrist and give a small tug. You know that you can’t move him, but he puts up a token resistance, climbing into the bed and laying down on his side.

You smile, laying next to him you tell him goodnight as you draw the blanket over you both.

Elsewhere, Loki sits alone at the foot of his bed, green eyes mournful as he peers into the ring on his finger. You feared him. You feared rape. You feared pain. Worst, you feared death.  
You feared he’d be the one to kill you. Tomorrow, Loki decides, he will remedy this. For tonight-You will find peace in the arms of a beast, but not in the arms of a monster. He supposes it’s fitting. But he must punish you all the same. The hulk might be a beast, but he is still a man. And Loki does not share.  
He sneers to himself as he feels you drift into your sleep. 142 was an unfortunate loss but needed. She had never planned to aid them. Royal, but not him. The scapper had intended to overpower him on the day of their escape and take her away from him. His Royal. Fucking the treacherous slut was enjoyable, and seeing his sweet Royal have her first female lover was utterly divine. So wanton, so eager and responsive. Royal was made to please him. She was born to satisfy a god like himself.  
Smirking as he went to wash up before bed, the daggers he’d cleaned rested on the bathroom counter, void of any signs to the deed they’d done. 

It had been satisfying ripping the Asgardian woman apart under him and remaking her. Fucking her while she drowned in her own blood was a thrill. Not enough to kill her but- without her eyes and hands, the woman wouldn’t survive on Sakaar long. Not that it really mattered to him. The Grandmaster did so enjoy new toys, and breaking the former valkyrie’s mind until he’d been able to spell her into becoming a fuckdoll had been amusing. A suitable parting gift for his insane host. 

Yet the next morning, her fear of him had returned, her disgust. It sat uneasy with him. He wanted her love. He wanted to see what she looked like when she smiled, truly smiled.  
He wanted her to smile at him like how she smiled at the Hulk. 

It was a dark sickening want that coiled low in his belly. Jealousy for the beast was unbecoming of him. He had just 5 days left before the pieces would all fall into place. They had a ship. The Valkyrie’s untimely end had someone landed him as the ship’s legal owner. It was being outfitted with better engines and two new guns. He knew with trying to leave Sakaar, they’d need them. The wedding was being set up as it needed to be. His magic was gathering, pooling in his reserves for when he’d bind his beloved to him. His child was growing inside his lover, healthy and strong. He knew what portal to take, when to go, where to go. Heimdall was running out of options on Asgard, the gatekeeper’s rebellion to Loki’s rule finding no aid from Thor, still so depressed and morose over loving his precious Jane Foster and Mjolnir both.

Odin was dead. His people had accepted his rule. Sakaar had been an unexpected trip, but not one that had proved entirely too difficult. Sure, he might have had to use a fair bit of his magic to give missive to the councilmen of his extended stay.  
Slipping into his empty bed, Loki sighed. His plans were falling into place. His kingdom was safe, he was in power, and now, he had a bride to be along with an heir. Tomorrow, he thinks to himself, he will show her she need not fear death by his hand. Tomorrow he tells himself, he will punish her for laying with a beast. Tomorrow he says, he will give his bride a kiss, and show her how much she means to him.


	27. Returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn;  
> But thou art twice forsworn to me love swearing,  
> In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith torn,  
> In vowing new hate after new love bearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final days are upon us. Thor's absence is reveled, and Loki sets the final pieces into motion.

You wake up, and you notice that the bed smells of musk. The kind of smell from men after a work out. It’s not particularly pleasing, but edges the line of unpleasant. The sheets are also a coarse cotton, not the familiar soft silk of Loki’s bed. You recall the night before a blink. You’re still in Hulk’s room. Meaning that Loki never came to get you, or, he was waiting until you were not near ‘the beast’ in order to protect himself. You guessed the latter. Sitting up, you groan. Despite being in an unfamiliar bed, in the same clothes as the day before, you feel better rested than you’ve felt in months. No doubt, due to the thought of sleeping beside your new friend and self appointed protector, the Hulk. Turning, expecting to find him there, instead you see a man. Not just any man, but Bruce Banner. 

You blush as you notice that he’s kicked off the covers and Hulk’s garments do not exactly cover him. Discretely, you cover him for modesty. Loki will be furious. It’s one thing to sleep next to the Hulk, a being that probably has no concept of sexual desire and you would likely die from an encounter with. Sleeping next to a very nearly nude Bruce Banner? A human man? No, Loki will punish you even more than before. The stunt with 142 was one thing, but this-

You can’t think of a way to excuse this fact as a loud moan of sleepiness escapes Bruce as he slowly sits upright, rubbing his head.  
“What happened-“ He groans again, and you yelp as he flips the covers off, accidentally flashing you. You scramble off the bed and onto the floor while he meanwhile yells oh my god and flings himself the other way. A litany of apologies leave his mouth as he grabs a sheet, covering himself.  
“I’m so sorry miss I didn’t realize I was um-“ Perhaps it’s the realization that he’s not in Kansas anymore that he stops fretting over you seeing him nude that he starts babbling, asking where he is, whats going on, why he can’t remember. You peek over at him from the bed. “Hey.” You circle around, gently touching his arm. He freezes, looking at you. “I’m Royal and ah- why don’t we sit down?” 

He’s fighting to remain calm, you can tell.  
By noon, you’ve managed to explain Sakaar to Bruce, who is notably distressed. You understand, you’ve been there before. Suddenly in an alien world and lost and scared and confused. But unlike him, the weight of killing people while the Hulk is not something you know.  
“I know it’s… a lot to take in but, we’re alive, and for now, that’s enough.” You smile, trying your best to offer him some small comfort.  
He looks at you sadly, and slowly, you see the expression change. He looks like he might-  
“I know you.” He says. Ah, you guess that perhaps, some of Hulks memories might carry over.  
“Yes, well, the Hulk apparently calls me his friend. It’s nice.” Bruce blinks, shock and confusion replaced once more by that look. He’s trying to recall something else.  
“No no- Your face. What- what’s your name? Not Royal I mean, your real name?” You swallow. You hadn’t been famous, and you certainly had never known Bruce Banner let alone anyone from S.H.I.E.L.D.  
“(y/n).” He looks at you like he’s seen a ghost. “Why?”  
He opens his mouth then closes it. He wants to say something but he’s hesitating. “I remember because it was so unique and- God. You were reported missing in 2014. S.H.I.E.L.D. got hit for a anomaly- At first, we thought it was the Bifrost, that Thor had decided to visit. But it wasn’t. There was footage of you in the area, your car at a nearby lot- They found your purse at the sight location.” You can’t breathe. He knew who you were. They had- “The driver responded to an add asking for your whereabouts. His dash cam saw you jump off the road to avoid him. The light made him crash and- oh my god.” He realizes what he’s telling you. He’s looking a woman that had vanished through a wormhole. A woman who by all account should have been dead.

“(y/n). I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He reaches for you and you lunge for him, tears in your eyes as you wail. They knew. You’d vanished, you’d been taken away, far away, and couldn’t get you back. Bruce rubs soothing circles in your back as you cry, as he tells you the rest.  
“We tried to find out where you’d gone. Jane couldn’t, I couldn’t, Selvig was even stumped. Later on when we asked Thor, he said it was impossible to find you. Whatever had caused the wormhole had just sent you to the other side, and because it was unstable, we couldn’t trace to where.” He rocks you back and forth as you cry into his chest. Just like the Hulk.  
“My-“ You snort back the snot, trying to form words, “My family-“  
“You- They pronounced you dead (y/n). Until Thor confirmed it, you were just missing but with not way to find you-“ He swallows. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake you head. “I- I was so worried. My family never knowing, thinking I vanished with no closure.” He rocks you, rubbing those soothing circles in your back. “I’m sorry. I did this with Hulk, now I’m doing it on you-“  
He laughs, and it’s not pained or haunted. It’s a laugh, pure and warm. “It’s okay. You had no idea and- Five years. Shit.” He smiles as you calm down, stilling curled in his arms. “Anybody would be emotional after finding that out.” You gasp out your own laugh, nodding and moving to remove yourself from his arms.

“Thank you. At the very least, my family got closure. I-“  
“Royal.” His voice is like ice. You stiffen, and you feel Bruce pulls you back to his arms, putting himself between you and the man who stands at the door’s threshold.  
“Come here.” His tone is imperious. He won’t take hesitation, defiance. Yet you’re in Bruce’s arms, slowly starting to shake from fear. You don’t want to go back. You’re afraid. You’re terrified. You don’t see the veins on Bruce start to take on a green hue.  
“Loki.” His voice is cool, he’s maintaining control but you worry for how long. You haven’t told Bruce what Loki has done to you, hell, you didn’t even tell him Loki was here.  
“Pet, do not make your punishment any worse than it already will be.” He hand is outstretched and Bruce looks at you concern deep in his eyes.  
“(y/n)?” You shake your head. Bruce is so kind, just like the Hulk. But Bruce Banner is human. The Hulk might be able to protect him, he can’t protect you, and you won’t have him changing just for your sake. You realize you can’t ask that of him.  
“Dr. Banner, I-“ You pull away from him, standing. “I have to go.”  
“No, (y/n) you don’t have to go with him.” He reaches out to grab your arm but you dart away. You use the skills of Sakaar to avoid his touch. You ignore the pained confusion in his eyes as you go to Loki’s side, placing your hand in his.

The smile is dark and wicked.  
“Didn’t she tell you doctor?” Loki pulls you into his arms, purposely pressing your back to his chest, letting Bruce see you in his hold, letting Bruce see that he controls you. “My lovely pet here, your darling (y/n), is my betrothed. Ah, I mean fiancé to your Midgardian terms.” One of his hands snakes to your own, forcing you to show the gold and green ring.  
“She was so desperate to see you, to beg for your aid. I told her she was a fool, but I do like to entertain my love. Ah, from your expression she didn’t tell you. Royal, love, that’s quite rude.” He kisses your neck, nuzzling it, making a display of it. Showing that you belong to Loki.  
“(y/n)-“ You close your eyes, not able to look at Bruce who is standing, taking hesitant steps to you.  
“I can’t help myself. She’s so sweet and kind isn’t she? Loving, gentle hearted. We’re quite excited you know.” His hand ghosts over your stomach. You panic. No. Not this way. You didn’t want to tell him, that you’d slept with Loki, that you’d conceived his child.  
You see the horror dawning in Bruce’s face. The realization.  
“I personally hope it’s a boy.” You let out a choked sob as Bruce looks at the pair of you horrified.

“Bruce I-“ Loki’s hand snaps to your throat, and your whimper, silenced.  
“ _I am the price of her freedom_. She does this because she will do anything to get off Sakaar. Anything at all. Desperation makes the sweetest accent to any deal.” He kisses you hard on your neck, sucking on your skin. You can’t help it, the gasp that leaves you genuine.  
“She agreed to this Banner.” Loki spits the name out. “In four days, we’ll be married. If you want her to get off this planet alive, you’ll change and rampage. Create a distraction while we escape. Our wedding, a rebellion from the gladiators, and a Hulk rampaging just like he did in New York.” Loki’s tone is cruel, and he rubs your belly, almost comfortingly. Bruce’s skin is turning an alarming shade of green.

“The big guy- he likes you (y/n).” He says, eyes focused on Loki. A predators's gaze you realize. Bruce might not be a fighter, but he knows not to take his eyes off the threat. “You made him happy when you forgave him. He wants to come out, he wants to save you.” Bruce’s fist is tightly closed.  
“Loki.” He says. “You swear, you swear you’ll get her off Sakaar?” Your lover and jailer grins, tugging you closer.  
“Naturally. I can’t have my heirs born here. Much less rule Asgard from this trash rock.” He sneers, but neither of you miss the shock on Bruce’s face.  
“Oh, that’s right- you probably never were told about that little tidbit were you? Thor does like to keep secrets in the family I suppose. I hope you’ll be happy to hear that Odin is dead.”  
“No.” Bruce whispers.  
“Thor abdicated oh, shortly after the convergence. He gave up the throne when he went to Jane Foster. Pity she left him what, a month later and he became unworthy.” He’s smiling. He’s enjoying breaking down Bruce. “Thor gave me the crown with his abdication. He knew I lived, knew Odin was dying. Well, Odin died about two years ago, so-  
“You’re lying.”  
“Not in this _monster_. I am King of Asgard. I plan to leave this pit of hell in four days. Royal will be coming with me to fulfill her destiny.” He spins you, and you see the face Bruce has been looking at. The twisted face of the God of Chaos. The madness and cruelty covered with a snake’s smile.  
“In four days, she’ll be my queen.”

The roar is deafening. Hulk is at the electrical door, banging on it despite it burning him, the scent of charred flesh making your eyes water and gag. Loki laughs, holding you just out of reach.  
“You see beast? She’s mine. No matter what you do, she’ll always be mine.” He roars louder, furiously hitting the energy barrier, not even making it flux.  
“Three days Hulk, three days you’ll smash everything in sight, else we won’t be able to escape and darling Royal here?” He cups your chin to face the man with green skin. “She’ll die. I suggest you think on it.”

Hulk’s expression isn’t just furious, it’s sorrowful. He’s trying to break through, to get to you to save you, to protect you-  
Loki grips you hard, laughing as he pulls you away, the only thing you can do is send the Hulk a final look of sorrow. A silent apology. He is kind and gentle hearted under that mask of anger. He had held you while you cried, and slept beside you keeping you safe from your fears. He wasn’t the monster.  
Hulk had kept you safe from the monster.  
The one who dragged you back to his room, his green eyes dark with fury and desire a cruel grin on his face.


	28. The Punishment of your Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is it ye would see?  
> If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of the 4th day.  
> Three days remain.

You follow Loki obediently, face a mask of cool indifference but the pain, the sorrow, is deep and right under the surface. When Loki opens the door you his suite, he yanks you in, slamming the metal behind you. You start sucking in deep breaths of air, trying to breathe and not start blubbering. He’s going to rape you, maybe let 142 have you again. He might even start hitting you and-

You don’t expect the arms to wrap around you, a song hummed low in his chest as he gently sways with you in his arms. 

You shake in his soft hold. A gentle Loki, a loving Loki is just a precursor to a more violent one, a more possessive one. He’s doing to this to build you up, to make your pain and agony all the worse. You can’t trust him, he’s going to hurt you, to force you, to-  
“Hush my princess. Hush.” He bends, scooping you up to carry back to his bed, where your trembling worsens. Rape again- this time you feel no accidental desire, no drug to numb the will, no alcohol to numb the pain. He’s going to take what he wants.  
“You really do fear me so, don’t you?” He says, but it’s a ghost’s whisper, not meant for your ears. You look up to his face as he sits on the bed, cradling you in his lap. Pensive, his eyes are looking past you into the skyline of Sakaar. You thought you could somewhat counter his movements but the reality is you care barely keep up, you cane barely anticipate what he’s thinking, what he’s doing.  
“This is-“ He looks down at you, resentful and sad. “-not what I wanted when I saw to secure your place by my side” He sighs heavily, pulling you back into the bed with him. You squirm, trying not to be on top of his body.  
“I want you to smile for me. Be happy for our child, yet it seems even with the future as queen of Asgard I cannot give you happiness. I find it becoming a rather tedious thing, your emotions, your free will.” You look at him. You don’t want to become a mindless drone, a puppet on strings.  
“Yet your will is why I adore you, love you as I can. Somehow, your feelings have become-“ He groaned, eyes shutting as he begins stroking your back like you’re an actual pet. “-important to me. How you see me is vexingly important and I hate it. I hate you.”

You both roll so you and he are on your sides, facing one another.  
“I need to punish you.” He says, you blink and look away.  
“Royal- speak to me.” You say nothing tears silently falling. He’ll just hurt you. He uses your heart like a target, stabbing it until nothing will be left one day.  
“Please, love, say something to me, anything.”  
“You don’t love me.” You reply, words empty and hollow. You see Loki’s expression fall, as if he hoped you’d say different.  
“You know that is not true Royal.”  
“Love is the greatest lie I can make a person believe.” You quote him and his look of hurt, of sadness won’t leave. Not even anger is in his eyes. Its as if the fight has drained out of him. 

“And lies can twist to become truths. Do you truly think so little of me?” You turn from him, not wanting to have this conversation. It’s just a ploy. An act to make you weaken, to make you bend and break under him. He doesn’t love you, he can’t love you. His hand brushes your hair from behind you.  
“You are brave. You shake and tremble, but still you defy me, turning away, being silent. Your protests of me loud in their quite rebellion. You fear me, you fear me so much because of what I’ve done. Not to your world, but to you. And you bare the pain, because you will not yield to the Grandmaster. You refuse to yield to Sakaar.” He scoots until he’s over your body kissing the back of your neck.  
“You refuse to yield to me.” Loki’s kisses are gentle and tender. A worship as he peels away the dress, making you moan softly through tears. 

“Don’t do this.” You whisper. “Don’t make me think-“  
“I love you.” He silences your protests with kisses, touching your body with powerful hands that might break bone, only used to pleasure your flesh.  
“Through your love I find myself, I find peace, a belonging. I find-“ He sucks on your bottom lip, mouth opening to taste him, let you believe the sweet lies he spins.  
“I find myself unworthy, yet wanting to become worthy.” 

He has you naked, flushed with half pleasure, body yielding and soft. In the midday light, your skin glows and he pulls away, green eyes lacking their lust, their cruelty, their anger or fury.  
He looks at you like a man in love.  
He looks at you with a boyish smile, and you feel your heart breaking. He could have loved you once perhaps, gently like this, lovingly like this. But something in him is wrong, it’s twisted and broken and cruel. Loki is not evil- he is not good. He’s Loki- a trickster, a being who straddles both worlds. It is only fitting his love would be the same.

“How-“ You cry as he climbs over you kissing away your tears. “How can you say you love me while hurting me? While you –“ Loki’s smile falls and his attempt to bring it back is lacking.  
“I want to be worthy of love.” He could be. He could be if he only stopped hurting you. If he stopped being cruel, if he wasn’t a monster. “Yet I was not born to be. I do not know how to love.” Your breath catches. You know it must be a trick but you want to believe him, you want so badly to believe him.  
“Teach me my dearest one, my sweet mortal, my gentle and kind hearted princess.” He kisses your tears and then your lips. A soft press, it doesn’t linger.  
“Teach me how I am to love you. This is your punishment. You must teach me how to be worthy of your love.”

You shake your head. You don’t know how to explain that love is not earned. It is a choice and a feeling. It is not something one is taught by another who’s own heart has been shattered. Love isn’t a currency, a tool. But he looks at you, he looks at you and you feel your heart seizing.  
He’s trying. He’s trying to do what he says. He is possessive, abusive, and his mood shifts wildly, yet he still is consistent in a single thing- he will go to any length to keep you.

Reaching up, you cup his face in your hands, drawing him down for a kiss.  
It’s slow, tender. You whisper his name into his mouth, suck on his tongue, thread your fingers in his hair. The feeling of him nude comes as his clothes vanish, and you gasp at the warm flesh meeting your own.  
“Can you love me (y/n)?” He asks, and you see something in those vibrant green eyes.  
“Can you love this monster?” You don’t know why, but the laughter bubbles up behind your tears.  
“You-“ He’s stupid. He’s stupid and brilliant and cunning and wicked- a mixture of deception and confidence, of knowing what do to and what to speak and say to get just what he wants.  
“You’re a monster.” You hold him as he lingers above you, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, bittersweet.  
“I already fell in love with you. I shouldn’t have. I don’t know why- but I did.” He kisses you again.  
“But-“  
“I love you.” You cut him off, reaching down, guiding him inside your body. It feels wonderful. It feels like coming to where you belong. With him, in his arms- you’re broken in so many ways. You’ve cast aside expectations of normalcy, of earthly morals and standards. Loki had found you, broken, read to fall apart and had given you hope to live, to survive. But in the end he was right. You didn’t belong on earth anymore. You couldn’t go back. Not after being on Sakaar, not after doing what you’ve done, how you lied, cheated, stolen- all to survive. Earth would be a prison, a cage. Earth is a home that you can’t go back to. Your silent tears are mocked by the tender smile you give your monster, your lover, your tormentor. 

Survial breeds adaptation. Loki is your adaptation, he is the way you have broken but never shattered, the way of losing parts of yourself and gaining back understanding that nothing could have gone back to the way it was.  
Bruce was right. You died in 2014 the night you fell to Sakaar. You are dead to earth. 

You gasp Loki’s name as he slowly makes love to you, murmuring his love, his princess, his dearest, his haven, his balm. He’s sorry. He needs you now, he wants you, he can’t let you go, not anymore. He’s sorry, he loves you.  
“My king.” You whisper in his ear as you wonder if the lies are worth the pain. “My King.”

You will not yield. You will not break. You will walk beside him, you will bend in the face of this mercurial man, this alien monster who is lost in his own self.  
You will not kneel. 

You will stand by his side, and fight for a lie you both want to make a truth. 

That, is your love for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bard's tragedies have returned


	29. Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now cracks a noble heart.—Good night, sweet prince,  
> And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!—  
> Why does the drum come hither?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 3rd day.  
> Two days remain.

You made love to him.  
He made love to you. 

He’d ripped you away from someone who understood your longing for home, your fear and your want of just human comfort, human companionship, and had brought you to his bed and made love to you and you hadn’t turned him away. He welcomed him in, embraced him, admitted you believed his lies and wanted to make them real, to make them truths.  
Loki is a liar, a manipulator, but he wants you. As his possession, his pet, his princess, his queen, his wife. He wants you as his lover, he wants the woman who loves him in spite of all rational. You’ve mulled on it so many times. That he’s abusive, cruel, that he very well could kill you. If this was earth and he a normal man, you’d be a textbook case for domestic abuse. For Stockholm syndrome. Yet you know that its nothing so simple with him, nothing so easy. Loki might be all such things, but without him you would be on the fast track to a fate worse than death. Without him, you’d never think of using the rebellion to cover your tracks. Never think to use your skills of slight of hand to pick a pocket and steal keys. Never think to be brave, to be resolute in your decision to escape. Fear of death had bound you to Sakaar, fear on an unknown. 

Loki was terrifying, monstrous, dark and twisted- yet you knew that he’d protect you from anything else, because so long as you were his, he’d not risk losing you. His obsession and possessive behavior is your shield, and behind it, you’re willing to risk death for freedom.  
Even if that freedom is by his side for eternity. It is better to spend eternity with a man who at least would fight for you than a man who would chain you up and breed you like cattle. 

“While I normally do not mind that rather alluring pout on your sweet lips my love, pray tell, what is their cause?” Loki sits next to you, a book in his hand in an alien language you cannot read, (though you can’t read his Asgardian, you can read and somewhat speak the three most common alien languages on Sakaar. If you ever did get back to earth, maybe you could become and alien linguist!).  
“You.” You’re not sure where your relationship with Loki sits anymore. You both want the same thing- to be in love, for what you feel to be real, genuine love. But both of you are so broken, so horrible wrapped up in lies that neither are sure what is true. You fell in love with part of his lies. He fell in love with the woman who believed them and adapted to them. Neither of you are the people you are while simultaneously you both are exactly as you should be. Your love is a contradiction wrapped in an enigma.  
“Pet-“ He sighs, closing the book, “-what have I done to upset you?” He’s being genuine, green eyes scanning you, trying to decipher your ire from any small tell.  
“It is less what you have done and more…” You blush, “More a matter of us. This.” Your hand motions between you. “Love and lies and-“  
“Pet.” He’s smiling, little crinkles in the corners of his eyes. “You have never lied to me. Not once. I know you love me.” He leans over, kissing your mouth softly. “It is my duty to prove I love you. Love you in a way that is not wholy…” He trails off, pulling back. He knows what he has done is wrong, that its hurt you, that it can kill you just as slowly and anything else on this world. 

“What’s Asgard like?” His green eyes snap up at the question. The entire time you’ve known him, you’ve never really asked, never really known. Loki stares at you, mouth open.  
“Why do you ask?” There is a hesitancy perhaps he doesn’t even realize is there in his voice.  
“If I’m to be a queen, it would be silly if I didn’t know about my future kingdom wouldn’t it?” There is a light in his eyes, a happiness there in his smile that is good and pure. It’s the face of a man who truly has no cruel possession of you, who looks at you like you are everything.  
“Let is start with the basics then. Asgard is one of the nine realms connect by-“ His voice is light and lyrical. You lean into him as he tells you of his home, of a kingdom of gold and eternal summer. He forms illusions, showing you smiling people, bustling markets, crafts and arts and lush forests filled with exotic magical beings right from your fairytales. He shows you the place he calls home, his kingdom, and there is love in his voice, longing.  
It doesn’t escape you notice that every image of people shows golden, flaxen haired people. Dark skinned beauties their perfect counterparts. No pale, dark haired men. No green eyes. Blue, gold and brown. It doesn’t escape you that without knowing it, Loki is showing you the place he calls home, and it’s a place he doesn’t belong. 

You spend hours next to him, curled into his side as he tells you of Asgard, pausing only to have a lunch brought up to the room. You eat in silent company, the air not tense or hard, but pleasant. You wonder if perhaps one day, everyday could be like this with him. Mellow, pleasant.  
Normal.

His tales of the golden world of Gods ends when he speaks of the nobility- royalty. When he speaks of Odin, of Thor- of his mother.  
“You know I am not Asgardian.” You hum, squeezing his arm gently. This is a vulnerability with him you sense. To expose himself, you must be patient, willing to accept him and his flaws. “Odin saw fit to raise me hating the Jotun, to hate what I am. And I did not take it well. I hated him for it, for a long time. That was his rule- to use fear to keep us from seeking to know other races. By fear or by thinking ourselves better.”  
“You call me mortal.” You pipe up, earning you a soft laugh.  
“I do, but over time, exposure as you will, I have learned why Odin saw humans as a threat. You evolve quickly. You adapt and are made to adapt. Your lives short, your strength lesser, but your will, your resolve, your tenacity- Humans breed at a rate Asgard could never hope to compare to. If war did come between earth and Asgard, it would be bloody. Asgard would have a short advantage, but your numbers would overwhelm us. Your ability to change tactics, to adapt to new weapons and develop your own would destroy us. Even when your race was young, Odin saw this, and he feared it’s potential. The potential of mankind.” Loki threads his fingers in your hair and you wonder- he’s always seemed to look down on your humanity so why admit to it’s strengths? Why be so honest?

“Odin wanted the Nine realms divided as to keep them isolated, weak. Weak enough so he could rule them, isolated enough to only seek Asgard for help, afraid of any other. It was not until I took the crown that Odin’s insidious machinations came to light. The realms we were taught as children to fear had been breed to fear us just the same. Peace was an illusion, a great lie not even I had seen.” He sighs.  
“And what will Loki’s rule be like?” You ask, his gaze shifting to you in curiosity. “Will you do the same? Keep them isolated? Afraid? I don’t think Midgard would be willing to yield to you.” His smile is wide.  
“You called it Midgard.” You blush. You just referred to your home by his name for it, and it clearly has pleased him.  
“But you are right. And I would not want them to, not at first. The realms I rule- I want trade. I want culture. I want them to be as they were so many years ago- connected. There was war, but in times of great crisis, they stood as one.” His eyes look to the horizon.  
“And war is coming my love. A great and terrible war. Not today, nor tomorrow, but soon. If one of the nine realms fall, others will follow. Asgard is old and powerful, but under that golden veneer we are few and limited. I plan to unify the realms as one- to rule them as Allfather, but to have them strong in the face of adversity, to have them ready for what lurks in the darkness.” The green eyes are haunted and you reach up, brushing his cheek, drawing him from somber thoughts.

“Is that why you want sons?” You ask, “One for each realm?” It’s an innocent question, but his smile is soft.  
“In part. My heirs as rulers of the realms would give a common link, and make my succession not a matter of who rules Asgard, but who is best suited to be king, who is most skilled, the one who would be his brother’s betters would claim the throne of the Allfather, and it would be by his skill, not by his luck to have been born first.” You sense a rebellion there. To Odin, to Thor.  
“And if it was a daughter?” You prod his side and his grin widens even more.  
“She would be the most powerful and beautiful in all the nine, her wisdom and cunning keeping her people, all her people safe.” You blink. Safe. You realize why he’s telling you this in a backwards sense. Why he’s so determined to rule the nine realms. Why he seeks what he does. He’s afraid of something, afraid of war, of loss- he wants his people safe.

You kiss his chin, wondering if you’re right.  
He leans down to kiss your forehead. You suspect you are.

“Can I-“ you hesitate. “Can I ask about Thor?” He shifts, mood darkening.  
“I will entertain it.” That’s not a yes, but not a no either.  
“What did you mean, he became unworthy?” Loki looks away, off into the distance again.  
“Mjolnir, his hammer as I’m sure you’re familiar with, no longer can be wielded by him.” You look at him, having suspected but- it wasn’t a lie then. “To answer your many questions- it hasn’t been lifted by him in almost two years now, and sits where he left it in New York. As to why it found him unworthy, I suspect it has to do with the fact he is finally having to face himself and his faults.” You didn’t get it-  
“Thor always has expected people to gravitate to him, to give him what he wants with enough pushing. He has never seen the consequences of his actions, and when he has, he hasn’t always learned from them. More, he is ignorant to his crimes.”  
“What crime did he commit?”  
Loki remains silent for a long time, the sun setting in the distance, casting the room in gold light.  
“He had a choice. To return with me to Asgard, to ensure a smooth transition of power- to help me restore the nine realms and ensure we would be ready for when the mad titan comes. To help me keep our people safe. Yet he said no.” Loki’s voice becomes soft.  
“He called me a Jotun bastard, unworthy of the throne, uncaring to our people, a liar, a snake. That I only sought to take him from his love, that it was I who was planting the seeds of discord between them. That I was to blame for his love’s growing ire, that Odin’s death was my fault. That no matter what I did, I would never be a good king, a worthy king.” Loki’s expression is blank, masking his emotions from you.  
“He said I was never his brother, and it would have been better had I died years ago.” You don’t touch him or kiss him, rather you stay by his side.  
“What happened then?”

Loki leans into you, eyes closed as he kisses the top of your head.  
“The hammer fell, and he has not been able to lift it since.”

You don’t know what to say. Thor’s crime had not been one of violence or of cruelty as his brother was so apt to do. His crime had been one of something worse. He had turned his back on his brother, his family, his people. He had abandoned them.  
Looking at Loki you realize, Loki had loved Thor once. He loved Thor still. Despite it all, Loki thought himself Thor’s brother. Loki had gone to Thor for help, to do what a good king would have done- to seek aid in an hour of need. Yet Thor rejected him. He disowned him. As Loki rubs his thumb absentmindedly into your shoulder, you don’t know what to do with this information. You know it is not a lie, it’s too elaborate, too far fetched. In the absence of logic, there is truth. Loki had tried to do good, to be honest.  
And for it, he’d been rejected.  
Thor had become unworthy, for the crime of abandoning the one who needed him most for the sake of his own desires.  
Thor had become unworthy, for leaving his people to handle the death of their king alone, for leaving Loki to deal with the throne alone, for leaving them all open to a threat of which Loki feared would destroy all the nine realms.  
Thor had abandoned Loki.

And in that act, Loki had lost the man he called his brother.


	30. Final Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide.  
> Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on  
> The dashing rocks thy seasick, weary bark.  
> Here’s to my love!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 2nd day.  
> One day remains.

It’s entirely strange to wake up in his arms and be contented. You fear him still, a part of you will likely always fear him, but now, you do not fear being physically hurt. You are distinctly aware that in the case of rape however, you remain uncertain. Only time will tell. Yet yesterday was calm. Domestic even. You spent the day nestled to his side as he told you of Asgard, enjoying his voice and the way he talked animatedly with his hands and how his face lit up when a particular fact excited him.  
He loved his home. That much was clear. 

Yet you knew no matter what stories he told, nothing would ready you for seeing it. For being there. You were, in your way, coming to terms with the future. Loki was unlikely to return you to earth, if ever. His possessive nature wouldn’t allow him, and his mental state was too hostile for you to expect it to be offered. If you did manage to escape, he would come for you, and you had no illusions what would happen to you once on earth.  
You carried the child of a war criminal. An alien human hybrid. You would be locked away, studied, used as a tool to defend against Loki because while he would rage and fight to get you back, he’d not risk your death. He would not let you die if there was even a chance he could get you back. But it wasn’t fear of Loki’s wrath or of being a prisoner of S.H.I.E.L.D. or even Hydra that made you slowly accept that you couldn’t return to your home.

It was the tiny life growing inside you. You could survive a cage, could suffer for falling in love with a madman, could live in knowing you would never have a normal life again. But to inflict such on a child? An innocent who’s only crime would have been to be born from a woman and a man who’d chosen to use each other, one of whom had attempted to enslave a planet, the other who had betrayed her planet. You couldn’t return to earth. Not with a child inside you. Not with an innocent life at stake. 

You may only be under two weeks along, but the life inside you is real, and it’s your’s. A part of you that no one else can claim. Loki might be the father, but even he cannot die that this child is yours. Genetics don’t lie.

“Loki-“ You turn, nudging the man your mind ruminates on with your hand on his chest. “It’s morning. We have to get up.” He grunts, lifting an arm and pulling you into him while nuzzling the top of your head.  
“I prefer staying like this.” His erection is firm, pressed to your belly. “Don’t you?” You hum, kissing his jaw.  
“True, but I still don’t have a wedding dress, and you haven’t exactly told me what to expect for our-“ You blush, the reminder that tomorrow, this man indeed, plans to marry you. Honest to god, make you his wife. You barely know him in so many ways, yet he’s going to be your husband. The ring feels heavy on your finger all of the sudden.

“I know you midgardians prefer white dress, but that is a color of mourning. The color and style is your choice.” His fingers reach up into your hair. “On Asgard, one’s hair is considered more important. It would please me if you braided it, that is my only request.” You recall a small fact you read once years ago.  
“Would you like me to braid your hair?” The shock on his face is mixed with wonder. Perhaps that small bit of history shares it’s roots with not just Vikings but Asgard then.  
“Naturally. It is considered… intimate to do so. A thing one’s wife does before battle.”  
“Well, given our plans it seems fitting.” Your quip earns his laugh and he hugs you tight, as if savoring the feeling of you in his arms.  
“It would please me greatly my sweet princess, to have you braid my hair on our wedding day.”

“Our wedding day.” You murmur, and sigh into his chest. “This is happening isn’t it? Your plans are all… happening.”  
“Yes, and no. I had to make many adjustments. I do not lie when I say I had never expected to become enamored with you as I have.” He leans down, kissing your ear before he begins trailing lower.  
“Ah-“ You can’t help the way your body loves his touch, craves it. “Will- will 142 be there?”  
He hums out a maybe, something about the woman being fickle over losing you to him. You can’t hear it all, as his mouth is half busy sucking at your neck.  
“I- oh.” His lips work their sinful magic on your neck while his fingers slip between your legs, rubbing the tiny pink pearl that he knows so very well. He is a sorcerer and his magic slips from his fingers into your core, a pleasant sensation you recognize from the first time you had sex with him.  
“Cheat.” You moan, rolling onto your back and spreading you legs for him. Loki just grins and kisses your mouth, his voice in your head calling you vixen. 

His eyes shine as you moan and arch into his touch, hands grasping his shoulders, hips grinding down on long digits. His name leaves your mouth in a soft chant, and he responds by thrusting faster into your wet cunt.  
“If we were on Asgard, it would be tradition for us to have witnesses when we consummated our marriage.” He growls in your ear, finger fucking you with enthusiasm. “No less than six- so no one could second guess it. We won’t have the pleasure here but I wonder, would you let me do it? Fuck you in front of strangers? Fill your delicate quim with my cock for all to see?” You gasp, gripping his shoulders while you mewl a yes.  
“Does that excite you, the though of being watched while we fuck my princess? Do you want everyone to see how well you take your king’s cock?” His fingers are covered in your juices and you can hear the slick sounds of them pumping in and out of you along with Loki’s filthy words.  
“Yes!” You cry out, thrusting onto his hand, desperate for orgasm. “I want you to fuck me while they watch!” Loki’s eyes are lust bright, darkness in them as you know so well. “Fuck your princess! Your pet! Fuck- Fuck me! My king- Master! Master please!” You want release, you want his cock inside you, filling you up, making you cum.

Loki’s fingers pull out and you cry out from the loss, tears springing to your eyes as you watch him suck them clean. You need release, you want him, you want to please him, be pleasured, you want- you want.  
You suck in a breath as he climbs over you, cock nudging your soaking wet pussy lips.  
You want to be his queen.

He thrusts into you with a roar, the feeling of his thick cock stretching you open and rubbing your sensitive velvet walls. “My tight little princess. You want your king’s cock don’t you, you cum hungry little slut.” His snarl is one of lust and pleasure, your hands fisting into his hair and pulling. He enjoys it by the way his eyes widen, how his hips jerk into you even harder.  
“Once we’re wed, I’m going to fuck you on the ship every day, every night until we reach Asgard. Then, we’ll wed a second time, and I’ll get to fuck you in our marriage bed all over again. Fuck you in front of the court-“ He moans as your body squeezes tight when he mentioned being watched while fucking you. You can’t help it, it’s sinful, it’s indecent, it’s obscene. It’s everything Loki is and you love it.

“You slut- you’d like that. Being watched. I can’t wait. I’m going to fuck you on the throne. My sweet princess.” He growls, green eyes a near black. “I’m going to fuck you while my people call you queen.”  
His cock rams into your g-spot and you scream as your orgasm shoots through your body, making you shudder, legs wrapping around his hips, locking him close, desperate for his cum.

He doesn’t stop, instead he pulls out, rolling you to your side and slinging a leg over his shoulder, his thrusts going even deeper. Spots dance in your vision as he relentlessly pounds you, femcum gushing down your thighs and ass, soaking the sheets. The soundtrack of your fucking is wet flesh on flesh, the bed creaking under his movements, the loud breaths you take as you lay back, letting him have his way with you, inside of you.

“Loki!” You scream, reaching for him, tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks. His spell is working deep inside you, making your entire body shake with pleasure. “My god!” You throw your head back, not thinking to your words.  
“I love you! I love you I love you I love you- Ah- Ah-“ You cum again, body desperate, trying to milk his cock for the salty white sperm you adore. “Take me! Take me and make me your’s! To Asgard! Asgard Asgard Asgard-“  
Your scream is loud as he cums, your body clenching as his seed floods you channel, ropes of his cum going deep and filling you up. You don’t see his look of wonder, of bliss, as he finds his release. His mind is too focused on your words. You will accept him, go with him to Asgard. You’ll be his wife. 

As you lay in his arms post-coital, you moan softly while he runs his hands over you, soothing your tender and sore body with his magic. You relish the after high, the way you feel like you’re in air, like you don’t need to be afraid. Still, your body has needs, hunger and bathroom two of them. Disentangling reluctantly, the pair of you meander to the bathroom, taking care of your business in a strange fashion of domestic normalcy. 

The shower is hot and sweet, he has you lean against the cool tile as gently, he takes your from behind, moaning low when he finds his release. He brings you with his lips and tongue, and the sight of him with his own cum and yours mixed in his mouth has you kissing him and drinking it down.

As you left his rooms, going down to meet with a seamstress, to visit the caterers he’d selected to try various dishes, to meet with the Grandmaster later with Loki to discuss your wedding, you had no idea, that just a few flights below, Bruce Banner was sitting on Hulks bed, looking at the energy field barrier that separated him from the outside.  
You had no idea that in the parts of him he denied, the Hulk had made a decision. He’d save you- no matter what it took, he’d save you and keep you safe, so you’d never cry again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed I edited the timeline. That's because I'm bobo the fool and fucking can't count worth shit.


	31. Last Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wish you all joy of the worm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second day ends.  
> Death is coming.

Your dress is Gold. Not a spot of violet. Not a speck of purple. Nothing to mark you as Royal- woman of Sakaar. You won’t dress yourself in the color of your prison. The color of your lie. Gold is the color that accents Loki’s green, that stands bright against the black. Gold is soft and beautiful, it can be shaped and bent but it almost never breaks. It is the color of summer, of warmth. It is beautiful on you, and it leaves Loki staring at you in stunned silence.

“It’s bad luck to see a bride in her wedding dress.” You say, turning away so he can’t see the red in your cheeks. The Sakaar seamstress has made a gown fit for a runway, a red carpet. It dips low to expose the tops of your breasts, hugs your body and fans out to pool around your feet. Backless, it shows more skin than any decent traditional dress would. You chose this design because you don’t want tradition, you don’t want safe or mundane. You want to show you are unafraid to let him see you, let anyone see you. You died on Sakaar dressed in violet. Dressed in violence. Now you will be reborn in gold, through pain and love and desire and freedom- you will remake yourself, and adapt to your future as it unfolds. 

Loki stands still at the threshold of the doorway, his breathing thunder in your ears even from such a distance.  
“Leave us.” The seamstress bows and leaves you both alone, and Loki wastes no time in closing the distance. You expect a kiss, a rough domination. You do not expect him to sink to his knees, lifting the hem of your dress to kiss the fabric.  
“You are a vision- a goddess.” He trails his hands up your covered legs, rising slowly to kiss his way up your spine. “You truly mean to become my wife don’t you?” He asks, his kisses on the back of your neck.  
Your heart hurts but you answer him. “Earth would never take me back, accept me back. Accept us.” You reach and pull his hand over your belly. He need to understand this is not just about you anymore. This is about you and him, and a child that does not yet exist.  
“They would not.” His hand rubs your still flat stomach, and you sigh, leaning back into him.  
“Tomorrow-“ You can’t even believe that tomorrow, you’ll be standing at an altar, vowing to marry this man, this insane and cruel and powerful nigh immortal man. To marry a man that loves you and the lies that have become your realities. To marry a God.

“It isn’t too-“ You search for the right words as Loki hums into your neck, “too sensual for your liking?” He laughs into your skin.  
“Pet, you’d cause a scandal were we on Midgard or Asgard. I love it.” He spins you, capturing your lips in his with a rush of fresh desire. You smile in his kiss, pulling away to slap his wandering hand that is trying to hike up your dress at your thighs.  
“None of that.” He growls nipping as your neck. “I mean it- I won’t have you ruining my dress before the wedding.” Loki pulls away reluctantly, his lust evident in his eyes.  
“I hope you know I will punish you for refusing me pet.” A tiny bolt of fear races in you, but he notices, smiling and eyes softening. “Maybe a spanking followed by a hard fuck against the vanity. I'm certain you can endure such a punishment.” You shiver at his perverse whispered threat.  
“I might need to kneel and beg for forgiveness if I keep being petulant than won’t I?” His eyes widen and he licks his lips.  
“Strip off the dress and join me in the blue galley, we have dishes to taste and I want us to finish early so I can get to what I truly find myself craving.” He slides from your side, pausing in the doorway with a seductive smile. Between your thighs, you feel wetness, your desire present from that brief interaction. You remove the dress and hang it up where the seamstress needs it for the final finishes. You briefly wonder how he’d react to a last second addition. A hasty scribble on a note, you smile to yourself. Loki will likely appreciate the gesture. 

By the time you reach the allotted space and time, you’re starving, and also sexually pent up. Loki’s words have sent a pleasant tingle down your spine and the threat of punishment-pleasure is one you do not fear. You can’t help the smile as you spot him sitting next to the Grandmaster, in fact, you hardly notice the white haired ruler, opting to instead walk over, bending to kiss Loki on the cheek before sitting next to him, an action that takes both men by moderate surprise.  
“Royal, glad you could join us. Loki was just telling me all about your lessons. Queen right?” You nod at the man, eyes drifting over various food dishes.  
“Indeed. He’s been teaching me of Asgardian ways and various this and that. I would make a poor queen to have no desire to learn of the people who will me mine to serve.” Loki sits a bit taller, prouder. He’s positively chuffed at your shift in demeanor. He certainly knows it is born of your acceptance to the reality, of your preparing yourself to adapt to a new place, and new station, environment, a new way of life.  
“It will be rather refreshing I think. To be somewhere new, to have a new purpose-“ Your eyes sparkle with your own smug joy as you reach over, bringing Loki’s hand across your belly, “-a new life.” You watch as Loki softens a bit, unnoticed by the Grandmaster who pouts as you rub in his face that you will be leaving with Loki, and there is very little he can do to try and stop it.  
“I don’t see what the fuss is about. You both could stay here a while longer. Space travel- yeash. Who wants that? Your eggs might get scrambled trying to get off Sakaar if you know what I mean.”  
Your head shoots his direction as you harden your gaze right into the Grandmaster’s, who’s own look is one of annoyance and petulance.  
“No, I do not know what you mean.”  
“Well, taking a wormhole out of here might mess with the baby. You’d be better off staying until It’s born.”  
You smile, saccharine sweet as you cast Loki your best lovestruck look. His eyes glimmer and dance with amusement to your banter with the Grandmaster. “I am confident that our baby will be fine. I after all, have my God and King looking after me. Don’t I?”  
Loki grins, bending and kissing your nose. “I swear by the nine you and our baby will be fine. I would spare nothing to keep you both safe.” His hand squeezes your own and there is a glimpse of his gentleness, his open honesty there. Possessiveness his emotions might stem from, they are genuine- he would kill and die before letting harm come to you or your child.

“I get it, you’re in love. Make me gag why don’t you.” The Grandmaster sneers as he waves his hand signally the start of the tasting. “Lets get this over with so we can get to the fun party- the afterparty.” He doesn’t like it, that you and Loki are being so open and robustly flirtatious and enamored in front of him. It’s a reminder he can’t have you. A reminder that for all his patience, his own insane and twisted logics, he can’t have you anymore. You don’t belong to Sakaar. You belong to Loki.

The food is delicious, and you make your selections, only arguing with Loki over a fermented fish that you swear will kill people from stench alone. He doesn’t budge, but he allows you to pick the semi sweet jam filling for the white cake over the chocolate alien equivalent. It’s a compromise.

Following the tasting, you and Loki go over the ceremony with the Grandmaster, details coming out you were entirely unprepared for.  
“Absolutely not.” Loki’s voice is hard and cold as the Grandmaster insists on a Sakaar tradition. That the Bride and Groom publicly copulate before servicing their guests. You know it’s done here, but only because everyone goes to Sakaar upper class weddings just for that reason- a free pass to fuck the bride or groom.  
“Neither I nor my love will partake in such a… practice.” You could tell he curbed the insult, with the way his hands grip the chair and slightly bend the metal.  
“Please Sir, understand, both on Asgard and Midgard, monogamy is a sacred vow.” You implore the Grandmaster who just scoffs.  
“Well, we’re not on Assgrab or Migdrab so you should be following Sakaar’s rules. I mean, I don’t have to wed you two. I’d be perfectly fine in fact, having you both locked up for daring to insinuate that my traditions aren’t good enough.” You pale and lean away from him. It’s the most pointed threat he’s made and you feel the animosity rolling off of Loki in waves.

“Very well.” Loki replies, his hand finding your knee under the table and giving it a firm squeeze. Stay quiet, let him work his silvertongue. “But after the ceremony and after we’ve consummated our vows. I get to fuck my wife first after all.” The Grandmaster’s eyes sparkle with delight. He’s up to something. He pushed and threatened- but why? Why provoke Loki, why settle for fucking you if he couldn’t-

You look at the food, a slow dread creeping in.  
“I think with that, we’ve ironed out all the details?” You ask politely, tapping Loki’s hand under the table. It’s time to go. He lets your knee go and brings his hands up, offering them to the Grandmaster in a gesture you’ve commonly seen done. The half bro hug. It’s so stupid but it’s just another tactic by Loki, curb the Grandmaster’s favor with small actions- garner his favor.  
“I think so. It’s been a long day. Drinks?” He asks, cheerful and a slave quickly approached with a florescent green liquid.  
“I must decline. Gestation is temperamental when it comes to alcohol.” He sighs exaggerated with a ‘Fine’ and you and Loki are dismissed.  
The second you’re in the lift to his rooms you tell him.  
“I think he’s poisoned me.” Loki’s frown is mired in confusion.  
“I ate everything you ate and nothing would have harmed either of us-“ You grab his hand and place it over your stomach.  
“Not for me Loki.” His skin goes white and he grabs you, a lurching sending you in a momentary darkness before you’re in his rooms- more specifically, by his wetbar.  
“You’re certain?” He’s pulling various bottles off their shelves checking labels.  
“Why else push the post wedding orgy? He was determined Loki. Why insist unless he knew he’d have a chance? You know he’d try to trap us, make us stay to see if his plan was successful.”  
“You think him that cunning?” Loki has summoned various herbs and things, a building collection of alien ingredients gathering on the table along with what looks like a chemistry set.

“He’s a man who will go to wild, convoluted lengths to get what he wants. He’s insane Loki-“ You clutch your midsection, afraid. You feel ill. “He pushed because he thinks he has-“  
You vomit, acidic bile rushing out of you onto the floor as pain stabs your insides.  
“No-“ Loki is at your side in an instant, tendrils of green and gold flowing into you as tears form in your eyes from pain. “No, I’ve come to far. I won’t lose you like this.” You feel something inside you, circling you, wrapping around you, enveloping you.  
“I won’t have what’s mine taken from me.” You are in unbearable pain and Loki carries you to the couch when you cry out, curling up as your entire body feels like it’s burning. The worst of it is at the base for your spine, your midsection void of any feeling at all.  
“Hold on my love.” You hear the clatter of glass, a hiss of steam and smell woodsmoke, fresh snow. “Just hang on.” Panic is in his voice, uncharacteristic of him, you whimper, eyes screwing shut as you try to focus on breathing, but even that hurts.

You taste frost- fresh herbs; You smell spring water. Cool relief passes down your throat and simmers in your belly, reaching your limbs to erase the burning, but the pain remains. The shuffle of clothes, Loki is holding you, but there is a roughness to his skin, like scars and stubble. Your eyes are shut, you can’t open them past the pain, only whimper as your hands cradle your belly, praying that nothing will harm the tiny life inside you.

“I will not fail you.” His voice is determined, resolute. You trust him, you believe in him. He won’t let anyone harm you, he won’t lose you or your baby. You’re vaguely aware he’s rocking you back and forth, his cool skin soothing your heated flesh. You whimper his name and feel yourself fading, blacking out from the pain that refuses to abate.

“I will protect you my love.”

 

Floors below, Bruce Banner tests the small device he’s pieced together. The barrier of electricity flickers before collapsing. He smiles. 

Tommorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teaser for the next chapter:  
> Bravest at the last,  
> She leveled at our purposes and, being royal,  
> Took her own way. The manner of their deaths?  
> I do not see them bleed.


	32. Dawn of the Day's End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bravest at the last,  
> She leveled at our purposes and, being royal,  
> Took her own way. The manner of their deaths?  
> I do not see them bleed.

The first thing you felt when you woke up was cold. Not a painful cold or even an annoying cold. It was the cold of a spring morning, not enough to bring a chill, not enough to be warm. The cold of a café in the late afternoon, a gentle sort of cold that made you relish the sunlight and warmth. 

It was Loki’s arms, wrapped around you, holding you close to his bare chest as he whispered things you couldn’t understand. It was blue skin and raised lines that felt like scars and stubble. It was his breath ghosting into mist in the air. You blinked at him, awareness slowly coming back to you and you pushed yourself further into his cool embrace. He smelled of ice water, of wild herbs and wood. He smelled fresh and new like wet earth and winter’s thaw. When you looked at him again, his skin was the pale tone you recalled, his eyes the deep green that gazed out into the skyline of Sakaar while his chanting went on. Green and gold tendrils sank into your skin and out again, a ball of glittering light cradled inside your stomach- your womb.

Healing, protecting, comforting.   
Loki would not let you fall to poison. He would not lose you or his child while he might be able to prevent it.   
You gasped, trying to call out to him, but he hushed you. “Be still darling,” he soothed, his magic running through you, “you are still weak, and I haven’t managed to purge the poison from you entirely yet.” You whimper, your hand slipping down to your belly in silent question.  
“They’re fine pet. We are… fortunate that my heritage affords a certain level of resistance to such things.” You weakly nod, drifting back to sleep.

When you open your eyes again, you’re still in his arms, but in the bed this time, and from the dark skyline, it’s the middle of the night or early morning. You feel… fine. Like you’d never been poisoned at all. Loki however, looks like he’s run a marathon, hair stuck to his skin with sweat, faint circles under his eyes and his rest is deep, not having roused with you as he has every other time. You lean into him, whispering thank you. Over and over you whisper your thanks, silent I love yous, kisses to his forehead and face. He’s saved your life, and you know he’d not rest unless he’d also saved the life of your child. You don’t feel sleepy, but you still lay in his arms, knowing that he had done what he promised. He’d kept you safe, he’d protected you. The Grandmaster however-

You mull over the situation. He likely will expect you have had miscarried, but without going to the doctors, he’d be left uncertain. Whatever he hit you with was intended to purge you of your child, not kill you. A miscarriage this early would be light, painful, but not crippling per say. He’d expect tomorrow you to be beside yourself in grief, Loki perhaps to be angry and despondent. He’d be looking to break the marriage, to get Loki to leave without you. Or, be able to enact that vulgar Sakaar tradition of Bride sharing. He had set his plans to give him an ample opportunity to chain you here- if the child’s heritage was called into question, he’d keep you here and make Loki choose freedom or you.  
Unfortunately, the Grandmaster had no idea how possessive of a man Loki was. Your God would kill all of Sakaar before giving you up. It sounds pretentious, but you know he would. Loki is not one to suffer disgrace. Which makes the situation all the more dangerous.

He’ll want revenge. It was one thing to leave, snub the Grandmaster, another for the Grandmaster to have made such an attempt on you. And Loki’s reaction to you, his lover and ‘pet’s’ disobedience was answered with a brutal public rape, the man is likely to start a war in retaliation. You’ll have to somehow, convince Loki to keep his vengeance until after the wedding and your escape. Bring the Asgardian army- because the last thing you need is Loki chasing a personal vendetta while no support on a world liable to kill him by virtue of it’s chaotic nature.  
“You wake.” His voice is groggy, and he groans to sit upright, tired green eyes catching your own gaze.  
“I feel better.” He still chuckles, even after it all, like it is just a small anecdote.   
“I should hope so, I have nearly exhausted my magic to ensure you and our child are well.” He smiles in the low light so small you almost don’t catch it. His eyes hover over your belly and you feel a welling up of emotion. He saved your life. He’s ensured that the Grandmaster won’t have you. Your tears falling you kiss him, passion an love poured from you into him. He sighs, embracing you and falling back to the bed.  
“Sweet princess.” He murmmers. “I almost lost you.” His thumb rubs into your arm, “he will die for this you know. I-“  
“Please Loki.” You whisper. “Please, not until we’re safe.” You look at him begging with your tear stained cheeks. “I don’t care about revenge, about justice. I want to be safe, I want to be free.” You cup his face and he stares at you in wonder. “I don’t want to risk losing you.” For a second, he’s silent.

“Why fear such a thing?” He asks, false confidence in his tone.  
“Because then I’ll be alone again.” You confess. “I’ll be stuck. No purpose, no future, no hope. Our baby would- I would be lost. I need you.” His look is one you can’t read. “Is it wrong of me to fear you leaving me?”  
He pulls you tight to his body. “You would spare him the sword?”  
“No.” You tell him. “Just to... wait. Wait until you take me home. Till our baby is safe. Then bring your armies. Brings ships and weapons and war. Kill him, destroy this horrible place that thrives on cruelty and lonliness.” You grip his arm. “Please, wait for our revenge. I want- I want to know safety before I know death.”  
He softens his gaze at you and nods. It’s as good of a promise as he’ll give you.  
“Its one hour until we must ready ourselves for the wedding.” His thumb is still rubbing little circles in your skin. You smile. He is tired, and he’s save your life.  
“I can think of a way to pass the time.”

You slide down the bedsheets, and Loki quickly catches on to what you plan to do. His sighs as you pull down his slacks to pull his cock free are soft, and the gasp he makes as you slip him into your mouth is a reward in itself.  
You slowly go down his semi-hard shaft, tongue rubbing the thick veins and stroking his balls with your hands. He doesn’t remain semi-hard long, and soon you’re having to take him slowly in order to sink all the way to his root. When he’s fulling inside your mouth, you hum, coarse black hair tickling your face as he fists the sheets while you pleasure him. Closing your eyes, you pull back, savoring the way he twitches and tastes, the way his cock bobs in the air when you come off of it with a pop.   
You swirl the tip of your tongue around his head, lapping at the slit and moaning when beads of salty precome coat your tastebuds.   
You suck him down slowly, taking your time until he finds his release in your mouth, your happy purr filling the room as your swallow it all. 

Lazily, you crawl back up into his arms, sighing in bliss as he holds you close. Dawn has come, warm amber light filling the room and making him seem ethereal. Today you are getting married to this man. You will cease to be from Earth, from Terra, from Midgard. From Sakaar. You will become someone new, someone else. You will die by your own choice. You have died- and been reborn in the arms of a God. You will become a wife, not because of a plan for freedom, but because you want to be.  
Today, you get married to a God.


	33. Under the Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why, there’s no remedy. 'Tis the curse of service.  
> Preferment goes by letter and affection,  
> And not by old gradation, where each second  
> Stood heir to th' first.

Korg looked at the key he'd been given, and then to the warm glow of the sunrise. She had her way home. It was perhaps not the best way, but it was her way. She had always taken her way, never following the path set for her. It was what made her strong, even when she didn't think she was. Korg was a fighter who used his strength. She was a fighter who used her heart.   
He gathered the Gladiators, all knowing that when the wedding rockets were lit, that was when they made their move.

Korg smiled.   
She would make it home.


	34. On the Soil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ay, but, lady,  
> That policy may either last so long,  
> Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet,  
> Or breed itself so out of circumstances,  
> That, I being absent and my place supplied,  
> My general will forget my love and service.

Banner sat on Hulk's bed, his eyes on the flickering doorway. He made his choices, he knew the risks but he knew the Hulk as well. It was rare they were of like mind, of like heart. But she was kind, she had smiled and been unafraid of them, had treated them without prejudice, without the raw fear they knew so well. Her fear was of things he could never do. Violence was violence, but even in violence, some actions were not so severe as others. Bruce Banner was a smart man, but he was not a grand champion of the people. He was not the kind to want to kill, to hurt. He wished to help, to heal, to save.   
His strength to be who he was, to be an Avenger came from his want to be useful, to use his curse to save others, to prevent them from falling into the sadness and sorrow he felt in his lonely existence. 

She was kind and smiled gently, she cared and sought friendship when so many others saw only a weapon or a monster.  
He had made his decisions. He had weighed the options. It was a risk, and he was a coward.  
But he was an Avenger.  
He would be a hero- wanted to be a hero.

And so he would do what heroes do.


	35. In the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know not where he lodges, and for me to devise a lodging and say he lies here, or he lies there, were to lie in mine own throat.

He looked down on the man he once called brother, laying in bed with a mortal woman in his arms, smiling, a calm look upon his face- the likes of which he'd not seen since they were boys.

Loki looked happy, more, he looked at her.

He'd come to find Banner at the behest of the others, come to save their lost friend. Heimdall had warned him- that there was more going on than he could see, that not everything would fall into place. The cryptic watchman's golden gaze had gone to the place where Mjolnir had once rested.  
"You are unworthy Odinson. Make peace with your heart, and reclaim what is your's." 

The man once called Thor Odinson, god of Thunder looked down from his ship, Sif and the warriors three behind him, not seeing their King in bed with the Midgardian Maid.   
He looked to her, her eyes full of love for the man he once called brother and he swallowed his shame.

He'd come to save Bruce Banner.  
No one else. Not ever from themselves.


	36. I, God of Mischief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more, and that’s the last.  
> So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep,  
> But they are cruel tears. This sorrow’s heavenly,  
> It strikes where it doth love. She wakes.

He lay in bed with her, her heart beat steady and strong. His child, their child would live, would survive, would thrive. His magic would see to it.  
She looked at him with eyes full of soft love, the love a woman with a good heart and a kindness could possesses, a love he did not deserve. She was beautiful by the way a soul so radiant and pure could be. She was not made for Earth, so mired in war and conflict. She was not made for Sakaar, a land for insanity and rejects. She was not made for Asgard, a realm of false legacies and even falser Kings. 

She was made for something better than he could offer, made for someone better than he.  
He kissed her, and felt himself weep in his heart.  
The players were in place, the fighter, the loyal beast, even his brother, the false hero.  
Loki had made sure nothing could go amiss, would jeopardize all he'd worked for. 

He looked at her, memorizing her smile, her loving gaze, the way she fit into his arms. He memorized the way she said 'I love you'.

He would not forget her.


	37. I, God of Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good morrow, good Lieutenant. I am sorry  
> For your displeasure, but all will sure be well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The threads of fate converge and knot together, no longer able to have choices become undone.

You were nervous. How could you not be? Loki had left you with the women who formed most of the Grandmaster’s inner circle to get ready for the wedding, which comprised mostly of bathing you in an alien milk-honey mix that left your skin buttery smooth and soft, scented with something akin to jasmine. Your hair was carefully braided and set to best accent your face and the goldren horned crown that Loki had created just for this occasion. He’d told you, every King and Queen had their own crown, their own ceremonial garb- all nobility had such things. Yet when a common person married up, they took the symbol of their intended. In your case, the horns were slim and shorter, a distinctively feminine version of his own. 

The dress, gold and glittering hugged your frame, the green braided band around your waist a tiny way to show that you would give him a way to show that you had chosen him. It was the only color on you aside from the gold, and you knew he’d understand why you chose it. Why you’d take a color he favored into your own dress. He was an egotist like that.

You couldn’t help but think to him however- he had been tired, a bit removed from himself as you’d woken and spent the hour before coming down to get ready; enjoying the soft caresses you shared between you. You had kept your promise though, tugging him back into the bed to he sat between your legs as you braided a lock of his hair. He had looked at you when you were done so serenely, a smile on his mouth that was kind and gentle. The smile that you only had seen a few times, and never quite could understand why. He had kissed you and sent you to the women, promising you’d enjoy the ceremony, in seeing what Asgard’s king looked like in his full glory.  
Personally you thought you’d seen his full glory enough times you could draw it, but Loki’s nude form was not a think to think on. Mostly, as it reminded you of what was planned for after the marriage ceremony. 

You prayed Korg would do his part, that Bruce might do this for you. That Chaos would erupt, and you and Loki could escape as planned. If you played your cards right-  
You shook your head. Loki wasn’t taking you back to earth, and was irrationally jealous of others who even looked at you. Trying last minute to bring Bruce Banner with you as a poor excuse for a rescue attempt would be just that- a poor excuse. Actually, it would be a disaster. Between Loki’s possessive nature and paranoia, and Bruce’s loathing and rage? You doubted the ship would make it off Sakaar. 

“Miss?” One of the women looked at you. “The Grandmaster has sent this as a gift.” The woman held out a necklace, purple gems glittering on gold chain. You looked at it and smiled.  
“It is a wonderful gift. Would you put it with the others?” You honestly never thought you’d get wedding gifts of all things. Apparently, you and Loki had been more popular than you realized. The woman nervously looked at you and then the necklace.  
“Yes well, he expects you to wear-“  
“This is my wedding day.” You cut her off with a cold smile. “And I only wear that which my King gives me.” Not to mention Loki would rip any token another man gave you off your body if by the fact it was from another man alone. For being a god, and able to kill the Grandmaster on a bad day, Loki was Loki- irrational in some things. 

The woman nodded, skittering back into the throng of gossiping girls and wanton women who lusted after the man who in less than an hour you’d be married to.  
A bouquet of flowers, strange, alien, harmless in your hands, you were escorted to the Grandmaster’s Throne room. You were ready to marry a God.

 

Loki, to his credit, was standing at the altar looking every inch like a God-King. His armor glowed in the light, his stance straight and tall, he exuded power, confidence. Yet his eyes were dark with caution, and even from down the aisle, you tensed. This was it, the final hour, the moment of truth. You smiled at him, watching the corner of his mouth twitch in a smile. You had come this far, you had endured more than you thought possible, and you had your victory. You would escape this prison, this planet, and find yourself somewhere new, with a new chance, a new start. Loki, insane, possessive, abusive- he would be salvation and damnation. Behind him the Grandmaster wore a sour expression, you the thing he wanted, was slipping through his fingers. All because you trusted a God of Lies. 

When you reached the dais, you pulled Loki’s hand over your belly with a grin, out of the corner of your eye catching the Grandmaster’s horrified look.  
You had your victory. You would be free.

The ceremony itself was fairly docile, a green ribbon binding your hands together as you made vows of fidelity and loyalty- to each other, to Asgard. You made a vow to be one another’s shield and sword, to be each other’s heart and haven. The knot was tight, and when the ribbon was cut, the knot intact, Loki held it like it was a trophy. Shared wine, drops of blood, swords exchanged and his magic washing over you, Gold becoming a rich emerald green. You laughed at the action, finding it so like him.  
“My love.” He said, cupping your face. “My Princess.” He smiled, warm and loving, “My wife.”

The fireworks went off as he kissed you.  
Below, the Gladiators blew open their cell doors, and began their march up to the world that had enslaved them.

 

The following moments were chaos. You and Loki had been kissing, wrapped up in your moment, the knowledge you had won and the Grandmaster had lost that you didn’t hear the scream from one of the guards over the speakers. A riot, prisoners escaped, they were marching up. Loki’s grin was wild as the kiss ended and you smiled back at the madness in his eyes.  
“What are you two smiling about?” The Grandmaster was yelling, Topaz at his side with the melting staff. “The prisoners with jobs are running wild! I can’t have this-“  
“They’re running wild?” Loki asked, brows furrowing in false concern. “You mean to tell me that armed warriors trained to kill have escaped?” He tugged you close, and you played your part. The new bride, frightened and scared.  
“It’s not my fault that they’re all deadly-“  
“Then you’ll understand that I will not risk my wife while they roam.” He picked you up and you clung to him while The Grandmaster hollered at Loki.  
“You can’t leave! What about the afterparty?”  
“We may party once I know my wife is safe.” Loki hissed, and you blinked at him. That hadn’t been an act. 

The Grandmaster gave up his badgering with Loki, yelling out random orders, telling people of Sakaar not to fight the guards and the enforces but to stay back, let them take control of the Gladiators again.  
Unfortunately, the people loved the fighters more than they loved their insane ruler. Guns were firing on the lower floors, and out in the city streets you could see people fighting the Grandmaster’s men. Korg was finally getting his revolution. 

As you and Loki entered the ligt you were set down, his magic changing your outfit to something more fitting the situation, no longer the elegant once gold then green dress and crown. Pants and a tunic. Tight fitting pants in his colors and in his style, but pants none the less.  
“Darling-“ You grabbed him by the collar, kissing him.  
“Shut up.” You hissed. “And give me back the crown.” His eyes lit up, and the gentle weight of the crown was back.  
“If I get killed, I’m damn well going to die wearing the biggest fuck you to that insane pervert I can.” His laughter was loud as he kissed you with abandon, the lift ending it’s decent at the ship bay.

You smiled, running towards the control panel, unlocking the ship and getting the bay doors open.  
“Loki.” A voice you didn’t recognize at first echoed in the once dull hum of the vast ship dock. Behind you, your lover and new husband tensed, stepping between you and whoever was speaking. The crackle of energy made you jump, peering over Loki to see who it was.

“Did you really think you could kill a Valkyrie?” She had been mutilated, her hands replaced with blades, robotic eyes held in by a grotesque mask. Her beauty was marred, and you felt bile welling up.  
142\. You realized that it had been her scream that night. Loki had shared you- and then removed the competition. Or so he’d thought.

“I see no Valkyrie.” Loki said, gently pushing you towards the ship, keeping himself between you and the woman. “I only see a coward, a traitor, a slaver-“ He spat. “A pathetic woman who lied and then sought to use another for her own perverse pleasures and profit.”  
“I never-“  
“Shall I tell her Brunnhilde?” Loki hissed. “Shall I tell her how you planned to kill me, to falsely lead my sweet princess to her doom? Capture her mid-escape, selling her to the grandmaster as a broodmare?” 142, Brunnhilde snarls.

You are shaking. 142 had been your friend. For two years, she’d been kind and-  
“She’s just a simple Midgardian- she’d have died soon enough anyway.” Her words cut you like ice, and you feel sick to your stomach. She’d planned to betray you. She’d planned to make you’re a slave. She’d planned to sell you to the Grandmaster. To kill you slowly with no chance at freedom.

“She is not a simple Midgardian.” Loki grins, and you see it in his eyes.  
“She is my queen.” Pride.  
He feels pride in calling you his wife.

She screams and rushed the pair of you, her blades swinging and Loki pushed you aside, meeting her with daggers to parry her blows.  
They fight, and you hear the groan of metal, the cries of the Grandmaster’s men down the corridor from the inner building. You’re being ambushed. 

You get up off the ground in a panic, running towards the ship. If you can get it going, Loki can board it and you both can escape.  
But it’s not to be.

Gun fire and you scream in pain as hot wetness coats your leg. You’ve been shot. Looking to your attackers you see the Grandmaster standing atop the catwalk, his loyal men with guns at the ready.  
“Good job 142! I thought they were being a bit fishy. Now hurry up and kill Lokree, I want to get Royal and get started with my plans you know?” Your bleed and in pain but you look to the ship. You can still make it, you can still-

The scream of breaking and bending metal, the Roar of the Hulk as he barrels into the docks, a golden ship with a bearded Thor and a handful of warriors behind him.

The plans are falling apart at the seams, and you look to Loki, still locked in battle with the woman, Brunnhilde. You make out him mouthing a single word.

‘Finally.’


	38. I, God of Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though in the trade of war I have slain men,  
> Yet do I hold it very stuff o' th' conscience  
> To do no contrived murder. I lack iniquity  
> Sometimes to do me service.

You’re bleeding, a gunshot wound in your leg. Loki is fighting the crazed Valkyrie, 142, Brunnhilde. Hulk has arrived, with who you assume is Thor and several Asgardian warriors. The Grandmaster’s men stand on the catwalk and at the entrances and exits. You had never expected this.  
Loki, however, had expected everything.  
“LOKI!” Thor’s voice booms in the room, and it effective stuns those present. 142 pulls back from Loki who in a glimmer of gold and green, is by your side, his eyes focused on his brother. “I should have known- only a snake like you could be behind this madness.”  
“Madness brother?” You catch it. Loki’s affirmation of his and Thor’s relationship cause the God of Thunder to flinch. He’d been telling the truth then, Thor had been the one to disown Loki, and it was what had cost him Mjolnir. “Is it madness to seek freedom from the yoke of destiny?” Your hands grab his coat, and his own grip on your is tight, his body hovering, keeping himself between you and everyone.

“Now who the hell is this?” The Grandmaster yells, annoyed. “You know what, I don’t care. Zap ‘em!” The fight resumes, the Grandmaster’s men firing on Thor and his Company, the Hulk as well, who roars and charges into the thick of them.  
Loki isn’t left out of the fighting, 142 charging him, and behind her, Thor wields a large, deadly looking axe.  
“I’ll gut you for what you did to me you Jotun bastard!” She screeches, her blades coming down, only for Loki to block them pushing her back and away from you. “And once I carve out that black heart, I’ll rip that whore’s eyes out-“ You see her hatred, her rage. “-I’ll sell her to the highest bidder-“ You weakly crawl away from them, trying, through the pain to get to the ship. You have to trust Loki, trust that he’ll get you out of this. Thor however isn’t joining their battle. His blue eyes are focused on you, and you see your death in them.  
“And I’ll rip that half breed spawn right out of her ugly womb!” 142 screeches, her blade catching Loki’s arm as you see an illusion shimmer out of existence while his true self attempts to stab her. 

It was like an bell of clarity. Your fear spiked, adrenaline rushing into your veins as you cover your belly out of instinct. Thor looks at you, death and hate gone from his eyes. Now, there is confusion and wonder- You don’t wait, your push up, ignoring the protest of your leg as you move towards the ship. Towards freedom.

But fate is cruel. And four of the Grandmaster’s men crawl over the platform, grabbing you and holding you down as they attempt to bind your arms and legs while you kick and scream. Your screams garner the attention of the men. The Grandmaster yells for you to be brough to him alive. Loki is yelling in a language you can’t understand, and Thor is yelling back. It is the Hulk who arrives, roaring as grabbing your would be captors and fliging them into the walls, sicking crunches of bones breaking heard even at a distance.  
“HULK PROTECT LITTLE GIRL.” His bellow is felt in your chest as he picks you up in one of his arms, using himself as your shield. “HULK AVENGER!” The Grandmaster’s men swarm you and the Hulk, guns and blades coming close, but the gamma radiation man of green only finches and swats them back like ants, careful to keep you out of their range.  
“GET MY ROYAL BACK NOW! I DON’T PAY YOU TO FAIL OR DIE!” The Grandmaster’s rage is palatable, and his men are relentless, and you spy those who came with Thor fighting them off as well.  
Thor meanwhile, is headed towards you and the Hulk.  
“Hulk! Leave her- she is Loki’s-“  
“HULK PROTECT LITTLE GIRL!” He roars, sending another attacker flying. “HULK PROTECT FRIEND!” Thor’s expression is angry and he yells back as he fights for his own life.  
“She’s Loki’s creature Hulk! She’s not to be trusted!”  
“LITTLE GIRL FRIEND!” Hulk insists and you cling to him, scared to let go.  
“SHE’S A LIAR!”

“SHE IS MY WIFE!” Loki yells across the area, still engaged with the manic 142. “AND IF YOU EVER HAD ANY LOVE OF ME THOR, YOU WILL SEE HER SAFE!” There is something in his face as he turns to look at Thor, a look you don’t know. It’s foreign to you, alien on his sharp features and dark green eyes.  
Thor is stunned, and he pays the price- a blade in his upper arm.

The battle is becoming bloody, and you see Thor’s company begin to lose ground, being pushed back. Hulk is taking the attacks, but even he is losing ground, backing away, wounds growing on his green skin with bright red blood.  
Loki is barely holding his own, face and body showing early signs of exhaustion, but 142 looks like she’s not even strained. 

“Hulk.” You grab his arm. “Hulk, I need to help Loki.” The Hulk looks at you, concern evident. “Please- I know it makes no sense, but-“ How do you explain these feelings? How do you explain your love for a man who loves the lie that you are? “I can’t leave without him.”  
Maybe the Hulk understands. Maybe he doesn’t. But he nods, face set and determined as he barrels down men in his path before you and he are near Loki and 142.  
“Give me that gun-“ You point to a stay rifle from one of the Grandmaster’s fallen men. It’s in your hands in seconds before the Hulk is forced to let you go, the men ganging up on him with electrical nets and blades. 

As the Hulk fights to keep you safe, you lift the rifle and take aim.  
“Back the fuck off 142!” You are standing on shaking legs. Pain is an after thought. You are running off of fear and rage. Adrenaline pumps through you alongside ever driving hope and determination. You’ve come so far, you won’t, can’t give up now.  
The woman turns her attention to you and snarls, kicking Loki away before rushing at you, her blades drawn high-

You fire.

You miss her.

She doesn’t miss you.

The warm blossom in your chest isn’t felt. You don’t care. Because up on the catwalk, the Grandmaster clutches his throat and red begins to seep into his silk robes.  
Time stands still as he pulls her blade free, a look of triumph in her eyes before she turns and her triumph turns to horror.

The Grandmaster hangs over the raining, dead.

You can hear screaming. Rage and hate. Green and Gold wrap around you as you close your eyes, and darkness greets you like an old friend. 

 

He watches you take the blade to your heart and his own shutters at the sight. He’d planned for everything.  
The Grandmaster to appear with his men. Brunnhilde to lead the charge, betraying them and selling them out, his spell not strong enough to hold her while his magic was being siphoned to his little wife, keeping her and their child safe. He planned for the Hulk to make his move, the man and beast both wishing to be worthy of their title- protectors of humanity. He planned for his brother to appear- His instructions to the warriors three, to Heimdall clear and effective, they had no great love of him, but would desire to see their beloved Thor happy- and delivering Thor’s ally to him was a mark of favor. Thor’s hate of him, his rage used to try and take Loki in battle, but inevitably realizing the greater threat of the Grandmaster was present. 

He predicted everything.  
All but you.  
You, in all your fierce determination, in all your cunning, your loyalty and love of him. He never predicted you would put yourself at such risk- to kill the man who had kept you chained, who was your greatest threat. He never could have seen a scenario where you would purposely use your body as a distraction to spare him the blade. Loki saw a dozen different outcomes, planned for each variable. Yet you, for all your love, he could never have predicted.

As you fall to the floor, he feels his magic rise like a wave, rising until he would drown in it. Drown in his rage and fear. He cared for you, loved you, coveted you. You endured him, understood his flaws and his nature. You had not turned away from him in fear, you had embraced him in knowing. You- a mortal woman who offered him nothing but acceptance, even at his worst. You- a woman who had fallen in love with him and had embraced his love in turn. 

His magic is at full, his love for you is real, a single truth he wishes was his lie.  
He crushes the Valkyrie’s throat and snaps her neck before ripping her apart with his magic, nothing left of her but her sword and shards of ice and dust. As the Grandmaster’s men descend into chaos, Loki kills them as they near, his magic doing the work as he goes to your side. The Hulk is crushing them, whimpering and moaning and howling as he sees your bloody limp form; the beast no longer feels rage but now, only sorrow.

Sif and the Warriors three are weak and nearly beaten, tentatively keeping their distance from their king. He is their king, their rightful king. Thor- not Thor, he corrects himself, Odinson, is still caught in his rage, at him, at the situation.  
At the fact a human woman lies at the brink of death and his hand is there in it.

Loki pulls you close, sending his rage, his fury, his love, his magic into you. It will not heal you. But it can keep you alive. Alive long enough to reach Asgard, to reach the Soul Forge. To be healed, to ensure you and his children will survive.  
“Lo- Your Majesty.” Fandral is the first to speak. “This woman- is she truly-“  
“She is my wife, bound by oath and blood. She is the Allmother.” He says, voice void of feeling.  
What can he afford to feel but sorrow and fear? He never planned for this outcome. He never planned for this ending. “She is your queen.”  
“She’s Midgaridan-“ Sif approaches and Loki stands, your limp form so small in his arms. So pale, yet still in his eyes, so beautiful.  
“She is mine. And she needs a healer.” He takes you to the ship, noting that it was not disabled. 142 was not so clever as she had thought she was. The bed in the ship was not large, but just big enough so that when they escaped, he would have been able to hold you while you slept. It would have been big enough for him to worship you nightly, admire you as your belly grew round with his children. 

“This ship was stocked with enough provisions to make it to Asgard had we taken a safer route.” Banner is there, clutching the tattered remains of his garments for modesty’s sake. He looks at you like you are something precious. It is not love. It is friendship- it is an understanding.  
“Doctor Banner.” Loki’s voice is sharp. “If you take this ship through the largest wormhole, you will arrive directly at Asgard. If you go with Lady Sif and the warriors three, keeping my wife stable until she is with the palace healers, the crown with be indebted to you.” He sees Sif and the Warriors understand quickly what he plans. What they’re expected to do. “Do this, and your rewards will be great. You will be given safe passage to Midgard, your earth, and your deed will be repaid in kind.” The doctor looks at you and then at Loki.  
“She might not make it, I’m not-“  
“She will die if you do not accept Doctor Banner. Without you, my love will die. If you help her, she has a chance.” His fingers brush hair from your face, so pale, so peaceful in your sedate state.  
“She deserves that much from me.”

Bruce says nothing, only asking where the medical supplies are before he sets to work.  
“Lady Sif, Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, you are to escort your queen back to Asgard and protect her from all harm that might befall her until I return.” The warriors three nod, somber and take their places at the controls. Sif’s jaw tightens as she looks Loki in the eyes.  
“What trickery is this Liesmith?”  
“I lied and said I loved a woman when I did not.” He stares back at the woman he once courted long, long ago. “I believed my own lie, and now, the lie is no more.” Sif’s face is pained. She nods and places a hand over her heart.  
“As you wish your Majesty.”

Loki turns and all that is left is Odinson. His brother. Thor who cannot call himself Thor.  
“Tell me Odinson.” Loki says, Odinson’s grip on his axe still hard. “Do you have any love for me?”  
“No.” His voice is so full of hate. So full of regret.  
Loki cannot help the pained look. He will always love Thor in his way. He will always know him as brother. “If not for love of me Odinson, then for your love of the people of earth, your love of Asgard and her people- she is my queen. Your queen.” Loki grabs Odinson’s shoulder.  
“Prove yourself worthy brother, while I prove myself worthy of her.”

He spins, sending Odinson into the ship, the doors shutting as Fandral lifts the ship from the docks. He screams at Loki as they sail away towards the gateway that will take them home.

He planned for everything. But the Grandmaster is dead, and from the sounds outside, the rebellion is squashed. The Collector will come soon, something he planned to deal with at a different time, and Loki is nothing, if not an opportunistic liar.  
And as he changes his appearance, an illusion coming over him, he knows what he must do, what lingers on the horizon. 

He does not doubt you will survive. That in some months time, you will give birth to his children; you will be a kind and just queen in his absence. You won’t bow to men, you will not kneel to nobility. You are Royal- made to be a queen. He knows you will keep his people safe. You will guide his oaf of a brother back on the path of righteousness. He knows you will see Banner rewarded his due.

Loki smiles as he takes the face of the Grandmaster.  
His lie for you will hold true.  
He loves you still.

And he will never let you go.


	39. Doctor's Diagnosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad?— I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but ear-kissing arguments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note at the end in regards to Valkyrie's character.

For the entire trip to Asgard, you are for all intents and purposes, in a medically induced coma. Bruce had been at odds to accept the swirling green and gold magic that hovered around you, keeping blood from leaving your body, your heart beating if only just. His job, Sif had informed him, was cleaning the wound, patching what he could together to aid the magic’s work. His hands shook as they cut you open further, taking broken bits of flesh and sewing them whole, watching as they held, as magic guided the blood back into veins. You were dying- you should be dead.  
Yet, it was Loki who’s magic that was keeping you alive, it was Loki who all but begged him to save you- something he wouldn’t have tried had he not seen the desperate look in the God’s eyes. The look of a man fearing loss. The look of a man who would not survive your death. 

Bruce wanted to say it was self preservation that kept him working on you, wanting to keep you alive, but he knew it was more than that. You were kind and open hearted. You had spoken to him like he was a normal man, smiled at his like he wasn’t an avenger, but just as someone normal, someone human, to trust, to confide in. You had been so emotional yet had also been so happy to find your family had been given a closure- he didn’t get it until you’d gone.  
You were pregnant with Loki’s child. If you returned to earth, you’d be nothing more than a science project. Your child considered worse than a mutant. A hybrid of human and alien. The child of a would be conquer and enemy of earth itself. No one would trust you- even if you told them of his violations, of his cruelty, you’d be a bartering chip. Your child would be an living experiment, an innocent raised to become a weapon against their own father.  
You couldn’t return to earth. With or without Loki’s child in your womb- you had been on an alien world, and unlike him, the Hulk, able to defend himself, free himself if needed- you had no protection. You had no defenses, no way to escape the cage they’d put you in. You could never go back to earth.  
Loki, as much as Bruce hated to accept it, had been the only sensible option. 

It was better to chose to be a prisoner of a madman’s love, than a world’s fear and hate.

Which also brought the question of why he’d stayed. He could have come with them. Bruce looked to the other Asgardians, and felt perhaps they knew more than what they let on. They certainly didn’t seem friendly with the black haired god, but when he ordered them on the ship, to take you to Asgard, they hadn’t hesitated. They’d obeyed his orders, even though they had come with Thor.  
Thor, who had lost the right to call himself Thor. Thor, who had become unworthy of his hammer. No one on earth knew why, but the way he and Loki interacted hinted that the God of Lies knew, and he anticipated Thor would reclaim his name and powers.  
But how did Thor know where to find him? They had run into each other in the tower, he looking for the docks, knowing you and Loki planned to escape. He would help, if only because it was the only thing he could do. He could always escape as Hulk. Hulk liked Sakaar, but you had reminded Hulk how much he loved Earth. That Hulk, in his way, thought of earth as home. Hulk would use Bruce and Bruce would use Hulk. Together, getting home might have been slightly difficult, but they could do it.  
Yet when Thor saw him, he said he’d come to rescue him, take him back to Earth. No explanations, just ‘I’m here to get you back to earth’. You had explained Sakaar to him, how it worked. By all rights, none of it made sense.

Loki was cunning, manipulative. He had been genuine in his rage and fear of your death. A man didn’t beg his enemy to save someone unless he truly valued them. Even if it was just because you carried his child, you held value to him, so why?  
Why stay if it would separate you two? How did he manage to get Thor to come? He had been unsurprised by their appearance.  
What had Loki been planning that would have taken him to Sakaar in the first place?

Your wounds patched as best he could, Bruce looked to the Asgardians, coughing to get their attention.  
“So,” he began, “anyone mind telling how this all happened?”  
Sif answers, the men looking away from him, away from the woman dying, the woman who is their de facto queen and wearing what equaled a crown even in her current state. “His Majesty gave us orders before he left. If he did not return after a week, we were to retrieve him, by any means necessary.”  
“He was their for two weeks-“  
“One week by our count.” The large red haired man states gruffly. “He is a clever one- my guess is he had business there, and she-“ he motioned to your form, “-became a diversion.”  
Bruce glares. “I highly doubt a man like Loki is distracted by something as simple as a woman.”  
The pilot of the ship, a blond man, Fandral speaks. “He’s not. Had she not been injured, I anticipate he’d have come back on his own with her, using our arrival to cover his escape.”  
“He’d have-“  
“Abandoned us? Oh, undoubtedly, but we expect that sort of cold practicality from him. He’s never been one for sentiment.” Fandral finishes with a smile.  
Sif nods, “He only told us he needed to see about a rumor, and if he was right, he’d take care of it. He ordered us to get him because while he may be king, he is by his own nature, not one to feel loyalty so much as obligation and possession.” Her jaw is tight. “He sees the throne as something he owns, Asgard, her people- he sees us as his things, his property. He saw a threat to it, and in his own words ‘None shall threaten what is mine.”

Bruce looks at you, and understand then why he’d send you and stay himself. To him, you’re his ultimate possession- his wife. Mother of his child. He owns you, but you hold something of his in exchange.  
It’s almost romantic, if not for the fact it’s all the hallmarks of a toxic relationship.  
“That doesn’t explain why Thor, er” he sees Thor not Thor wince, “Odinson was there. You said you’d come to get me so-“  
“Loki gave the order that if Odinson wished to use the Bifrost, he could only do so if it was to go where he was.” Sif says, shifting uncomfortably.  
“You make it sound like Loki knew I’d end up there.” They are quiet. “You can’t be serious.”  
“Loki is a master sorcerer, he has wielded objects of unfathomable power. He was cryptic, but in the past when he has been so, it was because he anticipated things happening. I doubt he saw you there, but Odinson wanting to fight him? That would be likely.” Fandral quips, steering the ship past falling space debris. 

“Well?” Bruce asks Odinson. The man glares out into the void of space.  
“Loki is a liar and is using us, all of us, and you all seem to-“  
Sif hisses at him, catching Bruce off guard. “So what if he is? At least he’s keeping us safe! At least he’s doing as he was raised to do! You got yourself exiled! He wanted to leave the throne to you, to be left to do as he wished, and yet you forsook us! You abandoned us!” She yells, and in her fury there is a sorrow, a deep sadness that makes the men grow silent and distant.

Odinson looks away.

Bruce gets it. Loki saw the crown as a possession- but what good was something to own if hadn’t taken it? Why own something that caged him? He was a man who wanted, and wanted to own things on his own terms. He took what he wanted- and being given the throne would have left him with a sour taste in his mouth.  
Bruce might have laughed. Here he was, not knowing the man in the slightest, yet keenly grasping why Loki had sent you to Asgard while he’d stayed behind.

You, his love and wife, could rule in his absence, and he knew you’d be loyal to him. So long as you ruled Asgard, he could do as he pleased, and when Odinson claimed back the power of Thor, you could be the one to give the crown over or keep it, because no matter his anger at Loki, Odinson, at the end of the day, wouldn’t harm a woman who was as genuinely kind and gentle hearted as you.

“I don’t think we’ll be left waiting long.” Bruce says, breaking the tense silence.  
“If he’s like the man you describe, he’ll come for her before the child is born. But, she also won’t let him stay away too long either.”

The dark Asian looking man speaks. “What do you mean, she will not let him? Loki is controlled by no one.”  
Bruce grins. Loki had begged him to save you, him, his enemy. The one he made clear he would use to get his wife away from Sakaar, away from the one who’d planned to take her from him and harm her. Loki had screamed when you were stabbed. He’d ripped apart 142 in seconds with his magic. His fear of your death was real.

“Love is powerful weapon.” He goes back to your side, a tiny smile on his face. You’re loved by a madman who had all the power of the universe at his fingertips.  
“And people will do anything for the ones they love.”

 

Odinson stares into the stars and wonders if perhaps, he should honor his brother’s request.  
Protect the woman he loved. If not for him, but for the fact he swore to protect people of earth. If not for him, but for the woman he’d made his queen. If not for Thor’s love of his brother-  
But for his brother’s love of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was asked about this via tumblr I felt I should publicly address over some confusion as to why she acted the way she did.  
> In this AU, we see the bitterness and resentment become Valkyrie's drive. In the movie, it is only when Loki forces her to face her leaving Asgard due to Hela, does she come to terms that she wants revenge. It's not a want to save Asgard or help Thor or even to be a good person- her motivation is revenge, and when her revenge is done, she's (theoretically), able to come to terms that she is Asgardian and loyal to it's people. In this AU, there is no threat of Hela, no reason for her to leave Sakaar. Her only re-exposure to Asgard is meeting Loki, who not only claims he is King, but manages to sleep with, seduce, and abuse the woman she harbors feelings for. She's left to accept the woman she cares for doesn't share her feelings, and is going to be with a man who embodies everything she hates about her home. In this AU Valkyrie is taken to the far other end of her character dynamic, which is a bitter, vindictive person who wants to cause pain to the one she sees representing the forces that took everything from her once and is doing so a second time.
> 
> I love the MCU Valkyrie, but in this AU, her character dynamic is shifted to suit the situation and story setting. I hope this sheds some light on the twist and helps put a few things into perspective for those curious.


	40. Wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I heard myself proclaimed,  
> And by the happy hollow of a tree  
> Escaped the hunt. No port is free, no place  
> That guard and most unusual vigilance  
> Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may ’scape,  
> I will preserve myself-

The waking world was unkind to you. At first the blinding light seared your eyes and the sounds of people milling in echoing halls rang in your ears like you sat in the pit of an orchestra. The gentle beeps of what sounded like a heart monitor were your saving grace, a tiny constant and an ocean of chaos. You heard voices, but only one of them stood out, his voice soothing you as he spoke softly by your hear.  
“Hey, don’t worry now, we’re safe.” Bruce Banner sounded so peaceful, so sincere, “You’re home now.”   
You close your eyes, and sleep another day.

It had been odd waking fully to a room of white marble and gold. It was familiar, and when you realized why, your breath caught in your throat. Loki’s magically renovated rooms, the style was exactly the same, which meant the place you were at was Asgard. As the reality hit you, so did the memories of your escape. The Grandmaster’s arrival, 142’s betrayl, the gun, the blade, the dull ache- A hand pressed to your chest you sucked in air greedily, life never being a thing you relished so much until the fact you almost lost it looming over your head like a storm cloud. Yet your skin bore no scar and-   
Panic, your hand shot down to your abdomen, worried for the tiny life you carried. You had survived had your baby-  
“Oh, you’re awake!” A woman with pale gold hair saw you her smile sweet. “Easy now your grace,” She soothed, coming over to touch your hand, “Oh do not fret, they are fine. Perfectly healthy.” You look at her and she smiled. Your baby was fine. Wait-  
“They?” As is plural? Her smile widened.  
“Two tiny strong heartbeats your grace, his majesty will no doubt be quite pleased.” Your heart races again, and you grab her arm.   
“Loki- where-“  
“Oh shh, shh child.” She pats your hands, pulling them off her. “He is fine. Taking care of unfinished business on that nasty trash planet I’m told. Really, finding a wife and wedding her away from court. That boy’s mischief will never cease.” Your heart is pounding and you have so many questions. How did you survive, what happened? Why hadn’t Loki come with you? Was Bruce here? Thor? What was going on?  
The woman hummed. “Just lay back and rest now your grace, I’ll fetch your doctor.” The woman helped you sit back onto the pillows, the soft beep of the heart monitor helping ease the stress you felt in your heart.

Bruce was first to arrive, and behind him, was the ever imposing Thor. Or, you guessed-  
“Odinson.” It wasn’t a question, but the way he glared at you made you sit upright. Loki had a way of terrifying you with his eyes; Thor’s stare hardly matched up.   
“Lokiwife.” You scowl.  
“If I understand the situation per my _husband_ ,” You hiss at him, “You would do well to address me by my title, not my relation to your brother.”   
Thor looks at you like he’s swallowed dry sand and steps to the side as he sees Bruce’s face- a pale green touching his veins.  
“Bruce-“ You reach out to him and when he gets close enough, you embrace him, tears springing to your eyes. “I’m sorry- I should have told you, I should have tried to help you and I-“  
“No, No, sweetheart, it’s okay. I get it.” He cups your crying face and wipes your tears with his thumb.   
“I mean okay, I don’t get what you see in him and I don’t think it’s healthy, but, I get it.” You sniffle back a tiny laugh and nod. His smile is so warm, so trusting and kind, you hug him again, thanking whatever small mercies Loki had that he’d not harmed Bruce.  
“What happened? I remember Loki fighting 142 and he was struggling so I-“ He makes a few ums and ahs before answering.  
“You took a blade to the chest. The heart really. Loki did some kind of magic on you- He had me patch you up while his magic kept you in a sort of stasis? I’m not sure how it all worked, but, he kept you alive long enough for us to reach Asgard.” You nod. That.. makes sense.  
“And he, he didn’t come?”   
Thor speaks up, a sneer on his face, “He handed you off and sent us on our way. Abandoning the crown and you like a coward. He got you and his spawn, but that’s not what he originally went there for. You can find any whore on any planet.” Bruce shoots an angry look at Thor, who stares at you with contempt.   
“For fuck’s sake Thor, she’s not done a damn thing against you-“  
“She is his creature. The sooner you all see that, the sooner we can uncover his tricks and lies-“  
“Odinson.” You think to what Loki would want. “Are you quite done insulting me and my husband?” Loki would want you to fight, to adapt- “Because as queen, I have more than enough power to have you locked away for insulting the crown. You’re only still here because Loki saw it important enough for you to be and I haven’t been awake to send you away. Now, either remove yourself from this room, or show me the respect your queen deserved.”   
Loki would want you to take control, and use everything to your advantage.

Thor, Odinson, storms out, and Bruce blinks at you in a sort of wonder.  
“You sure you’re not Asgardian? Because that was very Asgardian.” You laugh, squeezing his hand.  
“No, I- Loki and I are similar in this aspect. We both just... adapt to our situations, use what we can to keep moving forward. He- he’d want me to assert myself. He made me his wife, queen, for a reason, and I doubt it was just to legitimize his children.” Bruce nods, pulling back momentarily to bring a chair close so you can both be comfortable.  
“He asked me to take care of you until we reached Asgard- said the crown would be indebted to me, but I knew what he was saying. He was begging me to save you- a man like that doesn’t beg for just anyone.” Your breath seizes. Loki, begging Bruce Banner, an enemy, for help?  
“I don’t know how you both work out but- It was clear to me, he loves you, if he’s capable of that sort of thing.” You smile, nodding and fighting back tears. Loki had humbled himself, for you. The fact alone makes your heart feel like it’s bursting.  
“He is, just not in a human way.” Bruce bobs his head, understanding your meaning. A man like Loki can’t be held to the same expectations of a human person- he simply isn’t. “So Bruce-“ You pause.  
“It is.. okay? Still? For me to call you Bruce? I mean, we only spend a few hours talking and I don’t want to seem like I’m being rude Dr. Banner I-“ He laughs, and his eyes pinch shut so you can see the crinkles on the sides of his face.   
“Please, Dr. Banner makes me thing I’m working and… if we’re being honest? I’d rather just be Bruce for a while.” You grab his hand as squeeze. He’s a good man, the kind of man, had you not been with Loki, you might have come to love in another life. But he’s not, and this is your life, complicated and harsh it might be, you would not trade it, even for a man as kind and selfless as Bruce Banner.

“How- is Hulk alright?” You ask quietly. “Loki was… cruel to you both in his taunting. I wish I could have stopped him and Hulk looked sad-“  
“Please, (y/n), stop. You didn’t do anything wrong. Even the Hulk knows that. He was more worried about you than anything. You’re probably the only person aside from Natasha that he cares about.” You blink.  
“Natasha?” He’d never mentioned a woman before. You smile- hopefully he’ll be able to go home and see her-  
“OH uh- the um, Black Widow-“  
“You’re dating the Black Widow?” You can’t help it, it just comes out.  
He’s blushing and you can’t help the smile on your face. He has someone. Fellow Avenger or not, he has someone. “Yes?” His answer is a question and you laugh.  
“And you call my relationship a mess.”  
“Hey I didn’t say it was a mess, I just said I think it’s toxic-“  
“Says the man dating in the workplace-“ He catches onto your teasing a smiles back.

It’s a strange thing, friendship. But it’s nice, and it makes you feel more human than you have in a long time.

Talking with Bruce left you drained, but informed. It had been almost a week since you arrived, and in the meantime, Asgard’s council was running the sho, trying to cover the rumors of the new ‘Midgardian Queen’ and ‘Odinson’s return’. Bruce relayed that the rumor was you were a mortal woman Loki took as a concubine to spite Thor, and had falsely wed you to incite his brother. Your pregnancy was not known, and so far, no one believed that you were the real, honest to god, wife of their Trickster King.

Tomorrow, you said to yourself, tomorrow, you’d show them just why Loki chose you. Tomorrow, you’d show them what it meant to be ‘Royal’. 

 

Tommorow, Loki muses as he sits in the proverbial throne of Sakaar, he’ll take care of the Collector.   
Tomorrow, he hums to himself, he’ll get what he wants, and return to his queen, and relish the feel of her writhing under him in passionate euphoria.   
Tomorrow, he smiles, he’ll take back the infinity stone and get one step closer to killing the Mad Titan.


	41. A little bit of Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for,  
> Do me the favour to dilate at full  
> What hath befall'n of them and thee till now.

The following days are cold to you. You wake up, eat, bathe, dress, and then deal with being a queen without her king. Loki’s wedding to you, rushed, butchered as it was, was still under Asgardian law a binding marriage and the wedding knot he’d somehow managed to tuck into your outfit before sending you off to Asgard had ‘all the signs of his magic’ on it. The bastard had ensured that between his knot, his magic, and his very real, very healthy baby, (babies actually), growing inside you no one could dispute the fact you were indeed, not just Loki’s consort, but his wife.  
His wife, and lawful queen of Asgard.  
Mortal, _human_ , aside.

Honestly, the whole public ceremony for crowning you was a bit much. Plus, it should have been Loki placing the stupid horned circlet on your head, not some dumb councilman who had almost choked on the words ‘of Midgard’ like it was equal to someone saying they were from the bad side of town. But you were queen now; a crown was on your head, a royal heir in your womb, and your king off doing... whatever it was Loki did.   
Your days had been a whirlwind, and you gave the council leave to handle daily affairs as they were to do in Loki’s absence while you familiarized yourself with Asgard’s laws and political systems. You had a lot on your plate. In fact, the largest item to chew was currently causing quite the storm in the throne room, demanding to see you and have you answer his questions about Loki and his ‘schemes’.

The puddles of rainwater and cracks in the masonry signaled just how bad said storm had gotten before Bruce had so kindly stepped in to quell the Odinson’s ire. Even without Mjolnir, he was still a man of power, and had little self control in regards to it.   
Bruce had been your sole saving grace the last few days. While he certainly disproved of Loki and you being in a relationship with him, he also understood that you and he cared for each other- deeply at that. He also understood that you were on your own here, just as much as you had been on Sakaar. While Bruce might have been Thor’s friend, he was also human, also the alien on this world. This realm. Bruce had become something of your ally, taking care to help you understand certain nuances with Asgardian politics, with dealings involving the warriors three and Sif who all seemed uneasy around you but not hostile, and he also-  
“She is a liar and a trickster just as he. Why should we trust-“  
“For the love of god Odinson, she’s not done anything other than study about Asgard-“  
“Just as a means to learn how to destroy it!” Bruce truly had the patience of a saint. Possibly a God. You wondered how the whole being named a God thing worked and considered naming Bruce God of Patience. 

“As much as I would enjoy dismantling the established patriarchy, I think my husband would have me start with smaller devastations to the foundations of Asgard. I mean, this is a monarchy and I’ve found upsetting Loki is unwise. He’d be sorely put out with me to come home and find himself no longer king and his world a democracy but like I said.-“ You smile at Odinson, hoping he can see the annoyance in your eyes, “Small devastations first.”  
Bruce looks relieved to see you enter the room, relaxing and walking up to you, offering an arm to help you walk to the throne. Decorum would have no one help you, but Bruce is a doctor, not a medical _medical_ doctor, but he has a caring heart. You are still weak and healing after all. “Your majesty.” He says to you, a tiny smile on his lips, the pair of you knowing very well you dislike it when he calls you such, and, the fact he doesn’t have to. You smile back, patting his hand and thanking him as you sit in the throne. The throne Loki should be seated in.

Odinson looks more furious by the second.   
“Woman-“  
“(y/n).” You say, sitting tall and proud. Odinson keeps trying to cow you, to have you flinch or retreat. But you have faced worse monsters. You have endured worse pains than a cruel voice.  
“My name is (y/n), and I am your queen Odinson. How many time must we return to this? I am your brother’s wife, Loki’s wife, and you continue to try my patience. And while I am a very patient person, but not a forgiving one.”  
He sneers, a common thing of his as of late. “Says one who has forgiven Loki of-“  
“ _Have_ I forgiven Loki? Have I forgotten his many rapes of my person? Have I forgiven his violations, his cruelties? His crimes? No Odinson. My love’s flaws and pains are a part of me, they are mine to do with as I will. He will never have my forgiveness, but he has my love, and my understanding of what he is and what we are. There is nothing I must forgive of Loki Odinson, because there is no forgiveness for him in me.” You have been told in the past few days you are eloquent, regal, as silvertongued as your lover. You only know how to use words to your benefit, to manipulate to your will. This is survival, this is necessary.   
“Mind yourself Odinson.” You hold up a single finger. Three strikes and he’s out. “Speak not of what you do not know.”

Bruce makes a face, keeping silent and clearly not wanting to get involved, he’s trying to be a good friend to you both, and you frown, seeing his unease from the corner of your eye. You hope you’ll be able to send him home soon. As much as you enjoy his company, he really does miss Midgard.  
Earth.  
You are becoming comfortable referring to your former home as just that- your former home. Midgard, not earth. 

Growling, Odinson speaks. “Why was Loki on Sakaar? What purpose did he have there?” You sigh. You hate having to repeat yourself.  
“That is his business. He will return in time.” He’s too selfish to not. He’s also too prideful, too possessive to leave you and his children alone longer than absolutely needed. Your answer is never enough for Odinson, who stomps his foot like a petulant child. No wonder he is unworthy. He’s a man grown and he cannot even accept that perhaps, for once, he is not in the right.  
“Lies! You know!“ You hold up a second finger. Strike two. Odinson either doesn’t notice, know, or care.   
“You and he conspire against Asgard and Earth to what end? Why would a woman like you bed him and carry his spawn otherwise?”

You stand, anger bubbling up raw. Your hand over your stomach. These children will be loved, they **are** loved. The way Odinson speaks of them with such malice is the last straw.  
“Get out Odinson.” You hiss.  
“No! I will not leave until you and he answer truthfully! What are your plans-“  
You are done. Done entertaining him. Playing nice. Loki cares for him still, even if he might never admit it, so you do the only thing you can think Loki would do.  
“Guards, take Odinson to the Bifrost and see him ready to be sent back to Midgard. He is once more, banished until he learns better behavior, or my husband wishes to deal with him. You will hold him there until I give word to send him. ” Odinson’s rage is like thunder- loud, terrifying, but in the end, harmless. A few guards struggle to subdue him, but in the end, he’s chained and dragged away.

A part of you is shamed. He’s an avenger, he’s saved your old home yet- the man acted like a child, and so, you’d treat him as such.  
Bruce shifts next to you uneasy.   
“I’m sorry.” You murmer to him. “I know he’s your friend and technically he saved Midgard when I lived there still but-“  
“I’m certain he’ll calm down and see reason.” Thunder booms in the distance. “Eventually.” You reach out, grasping Bruce’s hand in your own.   
“I think-“ He smiles, knowing. “-I think it’s time for you to go home.” The conversation hangs in the air, the one you and Bruce have been putting off. The one about you, and your home.  
“I wish I could ask you to come with me, us but-“ His warm gaze travels to your belly. You both don’t have to say it, but he does anyway. “They’d do worse things to you than what Loki did on Sakaar.”  
“That is putting it mildly Bruce. I’d become a prisoner and lab rat, my children bartering chips and living experiments. It’s better for me here.” You might be able to go back one day, but not for a while. A long while. “I’m safer here.”  
Bruce sighs. “Are you? Loki might have been a decent king, but he’s not short on enemies.” You nod, this isn’t news, but you know you need to be reminded of it. Turning a blind eye will leave you vulnerable.  
“I don’t intend to let Asgard devolve into a civil war over their errant king and his new human queen. In a few weeks I’ll be taking more duties of the crown. Those misogynistic pigs in the council be damned.” His snorted laughter is heart warming and you stand, embracing him.

“I will miss you. You- you helped me remember that I’m human.” His embrace is warm and caring, it’s all the things you’ve missed. Bruce, the Hulk’s human self, is made of things stronger than so many understand. He’s made of caring and intellect and a selflessness so rare you wish you had someone like him when you were on Sakaar. Maybe then you’d not have fallen into Loki’s web. Maybe if you had someone like Bruce-

You feel the tears.   
You wish you could love Bruce, that you could go with him, leave behind Loki and his twisted love, leave behind the feelings for a man who embodied chaos itself.   
But your wish is just a wish. Loki holds your heart in a way Bruce never could, Loki gives you something Bruce never would. Loki is change, adaptation, survival, cunning, clever and courage. Bruce is control, guarded vulnerability, gentle hearted, tactful, smart. He’s everything Loki isn’t. 

You let Bruce go, sniffing back tears. “I need to stop doing this, crying on you.”  
He laughs, so warm, so kind. His own eyes shimmer for a moment.  
“…We could have had something… couldn’t we?” He asks and you nod, looking at the floor, red warm suffusing your cheeks. “He has no idea how lucky he is.”  
“None.” You agree, and Bruce laughs softer, his hand cupping your face.   
“You deserve a happy life.”  
“And you don’t?” He hums.   
“Everyone does. For me, that’s my science and using my powers for good. When I was able to protect you, when Hulk was able to protect you, we both were… happy? Well, as happy as Hulk can get.” Your smile is small but there. “I don’t have any idea how he’s managed it, but he makes you happy. I think you make him happy too.” He lifts your hand, kissing it.  
“Promise me, you’ll come down one day, visit? I know it’s asking a lot, and he might say no but-“ You hug him again.  
“Will you tell them? Everything?” He nods. “Even the horrible parts?”  
“Even the horrible ones.” He answers and you sigh. 

“I wrote a letter to my family; and one to your Director of SHIELD, one for Stark- I tried to include things about myself so they’d know I wrote it. Even if he once was you know-“ You wave a hand in the air, “-almost our would be king of Midgard; he is now king of Asgard, and so long as I’m queen, I’m going to make it my business to stop having people pissed and scared of what is my home now.” You huff. “I’ll be sending down some Asgardian tech in a few weeks.”

Bruce backs up- “What about the whole, no sharing technology with other Realms thing?”  
You grin, and for a moment Bruce realizes keenly, _why_ Loki trusted you’d make a great queen.  
“I _did_ tell Odinson I planned to do small devastations to Asgard’s foundations after all.”

Later, as Bruce greets Stark and gives him a quick run down, Odinson in tow along with your letters and gift, he smiles.  
Loki was the King of Asgard, a man hated by Earth and possibly several other worlds. No one trusted him and as a general rule of thumb no one could. But you, so small, so kind, so gentle and loving and hopeful, would be his foil. You, the woman who embraced a god of lies and chaos, were his queen and soon to be mother to his children. While no one else might suspect you to be anything but his puppet, Bruce knew better, he had seen the proof.

Loki loved you, and you loved him.   
Love makes people do dumb, stupid things, like beg an enemy to save the one they love.   
Love made people do things like create peace so that when their lover returned, he’d not have war or unrest on his hands.   
Love made women give a man who’d become her friend in under a day a piece of technology that would change the world. All so when her love returned, she could say she protected him by doing the one thing he could never do-  
“Almost forgot, I have a message from the new Queen of Asgard-“   
“The new queen? Reindeer games got married?”

All so he could have peace. So he could have things he always wanted.

“-She told me to tell you that ‘It’s time for Midgard to join the party.’”   
The rainbow gem from the Bifrost glitters as Tony Stark gapes like an idiot.

Mischief is **exactly** what Loki would have wanted.


	42. Collection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truly, an obedient lady.  
> I do beseech your lordship, call her back.

The feeling of his hand is nothing compared to the feeling of your silken walls clenching down on him as he fucks you as he likes- hard and deep, determined to make you writhe from how he can touch you in ways no other man can. The sound of wet flesh being stroked fills the quiet of the bathroom, his breaths coming in pants as he fights back his own orgasm. He yearns for a wet cunt, a tight slick pussy to fuck under he passes out post-coital sated for a time. Yet when he reaches for a woman on Sakaar for a temporary relief, your face flashes in his mind, your voice echoes in his ears, the scent of you fills his senses, your taste, your touch- you have enslaved him to you.   
He cannot stomach the thought of fucking another and it not being you.

The fact you have effectively killed his desire for any other drive his mad with rage and resignation. Loki is used to taking what he wanted, when he wanted, where he wanted, and having people welcome him and his silver tongue to their beds. Now? Now he’s welcome, but they are not you. None of them match up to you. He could make them cry, beg, gasp, groan, whimper, mewl, pant, plea, tremble- yet none would look at him like you do. None would sound as sweet as you, feel as good dominating as you do, satisfy him and his lusts like you can.  
You fill his thoughts and he hates it.   
Sentiment. Weakness.

He fears that you have died, and he will be greeted by your corpse on his return. You and his children stripped from him like everything else he has ever loved. He yearns for you, craves you, and he wants you so badly he fears when he returns to Asgard, he will smother you in his desire, in his cruel demands and passions. He loves you. He moans your name into the shower, cold water running down his skin and leaving it faintly tinged blue. The memory of you saying his name as you embraced him is the sweetest memory, one that makes him come undone in mere seconds.  
Sentiment is a _weakness._

Rinsing his release from his legs and hand, Loki steps onto the tile, wondering how long he’ll be forced to remain on Sakaar and get information from the Collector. Posing as the Grandmaster isn’t hard- the man was a simpleton and insane. The collector is just as mad, but he also has what Loki needs. The location of the last infinity stone.

The cosmic cube, the tesseract, the Space Stone, lay within Asgard’s vaults, the destroyer keeping watch along with Heimdall. The Mind Stone rests in a sentient android that is slowly becoming human thru gathering intelligence, through adaptation, (a threat should the being ever lose the more human aspect of itself). The Aether is here on Sakaar, lost when the Collector’s vault was attacked on Knowhere and then subsequently found by the Grandmaster and used to make Sakaar what it became, (Loki will take it and place it where it belongs, where none can see it but only he can find it). The Power Stone, supposedly safe with the Nova Corps is already lost- Thanos moves quickly when he has agents already in place. The Time Stone is with the annoying, infuriating, utter second rate ‘sorcerer’ of Earth who Loki would love to send to the Isle of Silence for Eternity but sadly, cannot, (none deserve such a fate but a select few). The Soul Stone- the final piece is all that remains. All that might tip the balance given it’s powers. 

Loki has wielded two of the stones- used them, expanded his own gifts, magnified his own being with them. He craves to find what he will unearth with the Aether at his disposal.   
But it won’t matter. Thanos moves ever closer, ever hungering for Death’s favor, ever a threat. Loki served.  
He will not serve again. He serves none but himself. He must find the Soul Stone, and the Collector is one who will know where to start.

He sighs as he uses his magic to dress, to cast the illusion over his skin. It feels ugly- he knows that to see him in this mask would disgust you, and thought of your truly disgusted with him is a revolting thing. Oh norns curse him, he is weak, he has allowed himself to care to feel, to want. He wants you.  
He misses you.

Looking into the mirror Loki frowns with the Grandmaster’s face.  
Three more days.  
Three days until the Collector will no longer be useful. Three days, and he’ll finally be able to go home.  
Finally be able to crown you his queen.

 

Worlds away, you sit on his throne, dressed in green and gold, smiling as old men prattle on about how it is not a woman’s place to sit on the council, how you, a Midgardian know nothing of Asgard’s ways to suddenly demand changes.  
You smile, hand on the phallic staff of gungnir thinking of how Loki would be pleased to see your thoughts on how you would have these useless men disposed of. Sexism is such an ugly trait.   
“Gentlemen.” You say sweet a sugar. “I understand your concerns, but, I have more than just Asgard to rule- I have nine realms to work on. And as is, this business of segregation and isolation reeks of imperialism, which as my history lessons in high school tell me, end badly.” They start up again, and your eyes roll as immediately they deride earth and praise Asgard.

 _Men_  
At least Sif stands to your left, stern faced and vaguely threatening when they step too close to the throne for your liking.  
“Your highness-“  
“Majesty.” You correct, hand held up. “I am your queen, not your princess councilman. Address me properly or do not bother to address me at all.” You smile, speaking like you mean no harm. Sif smirks for a moment before the expression is covered once more. The man in question shifts, anger in his eyes as he continues on.  
“Your Majesty,” sarcasm in his voice. Perhaps Loki would approve of you putting a laxative in his drinks later at the banquet? “Asgard has maintained peace for thousands of years by keeping the realms separated. Peace hard won and tenuous at best. Opening our doors to some of those realms would be a mistake. Some are not even ready for our rule-“

You slam gungnir on the ground, the bang silencing the men.  
“ _Our_ rule?” You say, eyes narrowing while your smile remains. “ _ **Our rule?**_ Last I knew, Loki is the King, and it is his rule that you live by. And in lieu of his absence, I have taken his duty as ruler as is my right, as I am your _Queen._ ” Your tone has gone dark, and Sif looks almost pleased. Almost.  
“Now, we will begin with making a list of current and past sanctions we have imposed upon the nine realms, and from there, we will begin reparations.”  
“Your majesty! Surely, you cannot expect us to- to- to honor our enemies?” One man shouts.  
You nod. “We can and we will. You may question my methods, but rest assured, things will go as planned.”

They have to. The nine realms as you’ve come to learn, are nothing more than false claims of Asgard’s sovereignty. You need to establish true control, and more importantly, true peace. Peace is your desire, control and dominion is Loki’s. A world that expects an ally is easier to dismantle and dominate than one already hostile and expecting the worst.

You dismiss the councilmen, giving them tasks and ordering a few to plan for a fete for when Loki returns. They say he might not for a while but you smile. He will come back to you soon. He will.  
He must.

Your hand over your belly, your children have heartbeats now, and you wonder how he’ll react to finding out the news. Twins. You hope he’ll be pleased. You guess that he’ll boast about it, and tell you how he hopes you’ll give him more soon after. His ‘barefoot a pregnant’ dirty talk wasn’t a future you wanted, but you could understand his desire for such, why it aroused him as it had. Even you had to admit the idea of being fucked nightly was somewhat appealing.

“Thank you for being present Lady Sif, I know you dislike these meetings, but until I can get my feet under myself-“ She shakes her head.  
“His majesty gave us our orders. Besides,” Her shrug is light, “you make a good queen overall. I admit though-“ She looks at you.  
“You can be honest with me Sif, I’m not Loki- honesty won’t be met with annoyance or anger.” She hesitates, and you can’t blame her. Your husband’s mercurial moods leave something to be desired.   
“-Seeking to make an alliance with the likes of Sutur or the frost giants is suicide. They loath us and-“  
“Just why we must make them love us.” You grin.  
“Love is better a tool than fear. I know this very well.” Her eyes ask the unspoken question. “Loki is very good at using both for our mutual enjoyment.” Your grin at the teasing leaves Sif blushing.

You laugh. “I- That’s not what I-“  
“Please, I know him well enough. I expect one of the first things he’s going to do when he gets back is fuck me senseless and in the throne no less.” She’s utterly red. “He’s not very good with self control.”  
“No, he’s not.” Fandral and Volstagg join you and Sif, Hogun currently on Vanahiem at your request to see about making a stronger alliance.

You have told none of them your fears.  
Loki stayed behind for a reason, even in knowing that he’d planned originally to take you to Asgard. He’d only do that if he had absolutely to remain. It sets you on edge. He’s not universally loved, and if Loki was willing to send you to Asgard to keep your alive and safe, there had to be a reason. You needed to find out why. You didn’t survive Sakaar by being optimistic, being blind to unseen threats.   
Loki didn’t become king by being idle in the knowledge of opposition.

The two warriors and the goddess of war herself follow you like shadows, and all you tell them is that you need to find those loyal, and you need to find those less so. Not loyal to Loki you tell them- loyal to Asgard. Loki may not be a good man, but he is a good king who would not see Asgard come to harm. You want your children born into a world safe. A world without danger. You need allies. You need to make sure that whatever Loki has planned, he won’t be hindered or threatened.

You rub the tiny almost unnoticeable baby bump. 

You miss him, and worry.  
You are not so foolish to think the Warriors Three and Sif are your allies. You are not so naive to think that the smiles you get are made from fondness. Sakaar was mired in politics, in subterfuge. On Asgard it’s just the same, just with better public manners.

You look at the world of green and gold- a kingdom given to you by a man many called a monster. A smile creeps over your lips. He gave you a kingdom laced with danger.  
You’d give him nine, helpless and ready for conquest in return.


	43. Return of a King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,  
> Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.

His trip back has taken longer than expected. Four Months.  
Four long, infuriating months he’s had to wear the Grandmaster’s face. Four months of pretending to be an insane simpleton and coddling another madman while seeking information. All for what? Loki groused, letting the Aether weave around his fingers while his ship made it’s way through space. He had the reality gem, and oh, it was certainly allowing him to expand his knowledge and powers, but he was right back to where he started with the soul gem. No, scratch that, he was worse off. Thanos had the soul gem. And that was entirely unacceptable. 

Yet, there was little that could be done about it. Leaving a few memorable clues for the ever self grandiose Star-Lord and his merry band of misfits, he hoped that Thanos’s previously favorite daughter would get the hint. She was certainly more clever than her sister Nebula at least, and Star-Lord being half-celestial put him in a good position to contain an infinity stone, if for a time. Loki was by no means a fool, there would always be those wishing for the stones, seeking them out. But he was not about to let them fall into the wrong hands.  
Not that he was altruistic in his want of them, but he hardly wanted to end all life. Maybe just a few choice lives. Just a few.

So, his ship hurtling through space, Loki mused over the events that had come to pass.  
He’d verified the existence of the Reality Gem on Sakaar and had managed to take it himself, (though not in the original manner planned). He’d found the most pleasing mortal lover. He’d sired an heir on said lover and found her… suitable to carry his progeny to term. He’d legitimized his future offspring by wedding his little mortal and in doing so, given Asgard it’s first Midgardian Royal. She was smart for her kind, if not in science or art but in cleverness, in reading a room, in subterfuge and cunning. She was the sweet face that beguiled all whom she met, hiding a truly viciously pragmatic woman that understood far more than she let on. 

Loki hummed, thinking of her soft smile and her voice. He missed her in these past weeks, dreaming of the moment he’d be reunited with his sweet princess, his decadent queen. Her thighs wrapped around him when he’d take her again; her belly just showing, her breasts swelling, her body changing, readying itself to bring life into the universe. To give him a legacy, cementing his enduring rule over Asgard, and later, the nine realms. He spun the Aether through his fingers, smiling.  
Three gems down- three to go.

 

It had been three months since Loki had sent you to Asgard to be healed. Three months of being on bed rest, fussed over by nurses and doctors, two months of learning anything you could find about Asgard. Three months of crippling loneliness and dreams of Loki for better and worse. Three months, and the tiny bump of your belly had formed, and your children had taken to making you crave meats and vegetables. Baked goods? Fruits? You might as well have started evacuating your stomach now. You were told this was the primary diet of frost giants, but you still insisted on a few supplements. Yet each test came up that your babies were forming fine and right on schedule. Well, schedule for a human child at any rate. Today, you were taking for yourself, picking a few things for the future nursery. In your company was Sif, (who’d taken a strange personal interest in being your shadow) and Volstagg, if just because the man had a dozen children already.

“The royal heirs will need the finest, not to mention durable! No doubt they will have their father’s powers and penchant for causing chaos.” You smile a bit at the red haired man’s ramblings. He means well, and has been doing as you’ve asked of him, filling you in of customs when it comes to child rearing. Sif on the other hand-  
“His majesty hardly used any frost magic as a child, I doubt his children will.”  
“It never hurts to be ready for the worst Lady Sif, besides, we’d not want them living in a frozen crib!” You flinch at this. Loki had shown you he wasn’t exactly ‘Asgardian’ but being constantly reminded that your husband and children were from a race most Asgardians loathed was a bit hard to stomach.   
“I’m certain that if anything is amiss, Loki will have it set right before our children arrive.” The seem mollified, and you sigh.   
Sakaar was easy in how to manipulate people to do not exactly what you wanted but what you needed. Asgardians? They were stubborn and liked to think themselves right all the time. The councilmen still were stalling with your plans, and so you’d resorted to sending a few small gifts directly to Odinson, a letter detailing how you were adapting and how you’d hoped to get Loki to agree for a temporary lift on his banishment so he’d be able to see his future nieces or nephews come their birth.   
Odinson didn’t write back, and Hogun said he looked disgusted at your letter.   
Heimdall says he’s bitter still, that his uncertainty shows with how he cannot throw the letter away or use the small gifts you sent. Still, he keeps them, and you know that is something.

Sentiment is a weakness after all.

You are busy looking over the various colors of cloth for the bedding when you hear them, the low dun of the Bifrost. Fandral is back no doubt from Alfihiem. You hope with good news. 

It is not good news. The elves do not trust you and their king and queen openly dismiss the idea of Loki taking a Midgaridan wife. Oh they kept the tokens, the gifts of goodwill, but they dismissed you. Anger simmers in your gut but you swallow it down before it leaves your lips. Work smarter not harder as the saying goes. The elves are to have a festival soon celebrating their harvest or some such nonsense. Traditionally, Asgard would send a few things- You smile from the throne, looking at Fandral.   
He’s a decent man, if a terrible womanizer, and liable to be unable to keep secrets to himself.

You send him back. He’s to seduce every noble lady he possible can at the festival and bed them. He’ll go with an abundance of gifts. After all, the elves were all about ‘fertility’ and ‘decadence’. Sending a man who thrived on it with a goal to seduce secrets from their nobility was right in his skill set. The best part was that the man hadn’t a clue what his actual goal was. A good lay, a pretty gift, and women were sometimes prone to letting their guard down. Not to mention the more often Fandral went to the capitol and the palace, the more familiar he’d be. The more floor plans he’d have memorized.  
Peace before war. A realm unsuspecting in time would prove easier to conquer than one already expecting the worse.

As the blonde womanizer takes his leave, you miss the hum of a ship landing in the courtyard, cloaking shields falling to a stunned crowd. 

Loki slips away to his chambers, the people too preoccupied with the man made of rocks and other odd misfit gladiators to notice their king hide himself. He has been dreaming of this for four months. He will not be held longer than needed and right now? He needs you.

 

You on the other hand are on your way to your rooms when news of the ship reaches you. All you’re told is that it’s filled with aliens and so you do what any reasonable ruler would do. Have them put under guard and sent to guest quarters. They didn’t tell you it was Korg and his band of rebels. You might have gone to see them if you knew. But you didn’t so when you open the door to your room and see a very furious Loki standing in the parlor you’re stunned.

His clothes are worn and threadbare, and it’s obvious he’s not in his right state of mind with how dark his eyes are, the grim set of his mouth. You are wearing your crown, dressed like a queen in his colors, yet none of that matters to him.  
You’re here, alive, and you’re not on your knees.  
“Loki-“ Three strides and he’s on you, grabbing your body and roughly pushing you to the ground.   
“Princess.” His voice is cold and despondent yet after so long it makes you tremble with fear and worse, desire. A part of you is shamed by how you react to his domination, but as he grips your hair and makes you look up at him, you see the darkness that haunts you, the darkness that has dominated you.  
“You think I’ll let you disrespect me in my own house?” His free hand works on his pants and you stare at him, panting lightly as your desire builds.   
“No my King.” You breath, eyes fluttering as he gives your hair a hard yank. “I meant no disrespect master.” You can hear his own wild breathing, evidence of his own desire.  
“I’ve left you alone too long, you’ve gotten arrogant.” His cock springs free of it’s confines, hard, it bobs in the air with a drop of pre at the tip. You can’t help yourself, leaning in and taking a deep inhale of his scent. Musky, salty, so perfectly him. “Miss me my little princess?” You feel him loosen his grip and using the freedom, you lick away the drop of his essence, moaning at the flavor explodes across your taste buds.

You missed this. You missed him- and the thought terrifies you.  
“I think you did.” He continues on, pulling you to his cock as you happily draw him into your mouth, running your tongue over the thick head of him, suckling like he is the sweetness you’ve been lacking these last weeks. “I think my sweet princess missed her King. I think she has been needy without me-“ He grunts as you swallow around him, freeing up your throat to engulf him deeper. He’s right in the most horrid way. You wanted this- to be dominated again, controlled again. You can’t even blame this on pregnancy hormones, this is all him, all his doing.

The wet sounds of Loki fucking your face are timed with your reedy moans around him, the sight one of the new Asgardian Queen on her kneels before her husband the king servicing him like a common whore.  
It hasn’t escaped you notice he’s left the door wide open, and eventually someone will see and hear you both. This should alarm you, make you embarrassed, but you’re too far gone to care. Loki wants, and you will give happily. Let them see you pleasuring him. You’ve handled worse things, faced crueler things than people’s ire and embarrassment. Shame has left you as you look up at Loki’s cruel grin and blown green eyes, melting into his hold.   
You pull off him to kiss up and down his wet length, whispering his name as you worship him in a way that drives him mad.  
“My king, my master, oh my master.” You punctuate each word with a lick or kiss, hands fondling his balls, teasing him. “Loki-“  
He groans, nudging you back onto his cock, fucking your mouth with vigor, the echo of his passion resounding behind you into the hall.   
“My sweet princess, my love- oh my love-“ His head falls back for a moment and you smile with his cock stretching your jaw as you take him to his root, black curls of hair rubbing you nose and chin.

He looks at you, and the sight must be good, as his orgasm comes with a shout.   
If people didn’t know he was back, they certainly do now.

You don’t let him go, and he doesn’t release his hold. Instead, you remain on him, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of his salty cum, moaning happily as he massages your scalp for a job well done. As you pull off a thin tendril of cum and saliva connects your lips to the head of him and you bend to lick it away.

Loki looks a man ready to collapse. Getting up slowly, you’re still clothed and you bow to him, smiling all the while. He’s back, your Loki, your bane, your terror, your tormentor and lover and savior is back. 

You kiss his chin, pushing into him, silently begging for his embrace. “My king.” You whisper into his neck as his hands come to your hips. “My love.” The tiny term sends Loki into a full body shudder and you see his entire face change to one of determination and passion.  
You cup his face and grin when you give him your first demand as his queen.  
“Fuck me.” 

He laughs, slamming the door behind you as you run to the bedroom, frantically ripping off your dress.  
Loki follows you in, and your heart pounds at the sight of him, nude, hard and green eyes glowing with carnal debauched promise.  
He shuts the door behind him as he herds you to the bed. His teeth glimmer white and you can feel the lust and heat pouring off of him in waves. He will make your scream, make you cry, make you beg. He will make you hate him, love him, curse him, worship him, all over again.

“With pleasure my queen.”

You’ve _missed_ this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the smut.


	44. Change of Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But breathe his faults so quaintly  
> That they may seem the taints of liberty,  
> The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind,  
> A savageness in unreclaimèd blood,  
> Of general assault.

You are blind, deaf, and suspended in the air by ropes that prevent you from moving. A ball gag rests behind your teeth and drool escaped you mouth to dribble down your chin and neck, ending up on your breasts. Not that Loki minds. He’s likely too busy enjoying your whimpers of pain as the plug in your ass throbs from the too wide invasion. 

You knew very well that he would fuck you like you asked him, but when he did was a different matter entirely, and, with your little defiance back on Sakaar by ‘getting involved’ as he put it, he wanted to punish you. And to him, a start to your punishment would be torturing you and preventing any form of release. The ropes twisted around you, locking your arms behind your back and forced your breasts up and out- the wound around your neck and hips, arching you back so he’d have a view of your front while also being able to you with you from behind. Two strips ran between your spread legs, pushing on your soft outermost flesh, making your pussy lips flush from the offside pressure. 

You were bound and captive, at the mercy of Loki who was intending to do god only knew what to you.   
“Such a slut-“ His voice whispered in your mind, and it made your inner walls clench. His touch, his voice directly in your mind was terrifying, as it reminded you just how powerful he was, how much he could do that you had no idea of. His power was absolute when set next to your meager skills.   
“You dripping like this and all from what? A little stimulation? Oh princess, I have neglected you.” His hand slammed down on your ass and you screamed. There was no pleasure, only pain in his abuse of your flesh.  
“But you went into battle, against my wishes, my will. You did not do what your king wanted.” Another slap, stars explode in your vision behind the blindfold as you whimper, praying his cruelty won’t last long.

You’re mistaken. Loki intends to use you to work out his frustrations, and in this case?

The dagger slides down your back with all the sting of a fine cut. One by one, tiny lacerations just enough to break the skin, to draw droplets of blood that Loki relishes in, licking a few as he gives you a moment of respite. Yet his tongue burns with cold, his entire body is chilled, and he used the cold to make his touch sting with each spank, each slap.

You’re certain your ass is red, your breasts sway and throb from his slaps and pinches to your sensitive delicate nipples, and your cheeks are likely red as well. Loki enjoys the started cries and whimpers of pain from you. His cock rubbing against the cleft of your ass evidence enough of that. You’re in pain, and Loki has refused to give you the one thing you needed-

“So beautiful my pet.” His voice is a disarming hum in your mind. “Red, abused, tender and helpless. I adore you so- your ass will need a bit more time to adjust for out later activities, but your welcoming cunt will suit just fine.” His thrust into your wet heat rocks your entire body in midair as you scream from the massive intrusion. Wet, but not stretched, he made it burn- burn so dangerously good.

You whimpers soon turned to moans, his cock stroking you in places left untouched for so long without him. The cuts felt like tiny accents to counter his cock, and the feeling of your tender ass being bounced against his hips sent you reeling. You screamed behind the ball gag as you came quickly around him, your orgasm sending a veritable flood of fem cum around Loki’s cock and gushing to spill onto the floor below.   
He grip in your hair was painful but not nearly as painful as Loki invading your mind, screaming that you were a disobedient whore, he didn’t give you permission to cum. Your pleasure was by his command, not your desires.

He fucked you like you were a whore, and when he cam, filling you with hot sticky cum, you moaned at the small pleasure it gave you before you felt yourself surrender, pain and sensory overloading taking you into darkness.

Waking, you half expected pain, but, Loki, ever unpredictable, had seen that your wounds were healed.  
Though, the toy in your ass remained along with copious amounts of cum still swirling between your thighs.  
“Pet.” His voice caressed you as you turn to face him, your lover and tormentor lounging in the bed with a book in hand.  
“I thought about punishing you further- but then I decided to look at what you’ve been up to. How wicked you are my love, trying to win the hearts. I almost would think you wished to find a way out of our little arraignment.” You shake as you catch the meaning in his words. He would want an explanation. You were his, and he would never let you go.  
“A trusting world is an easier one to betray.” You sit up, the toy in your ass making your movements slow. “I thought- if I can make them trust me, trust us- then later it would be easier for you to conquer them.” He hums, reaching over to stroke your hair.  
“So keen now to my plans my love?” You take his hand, kissing each finger silently before answering.  
“I want-“ You hesitate to say what you want because part of you isn’t sure anymore.  
Loki starting wars and becoming the one ruler of many worlds seems a foolish thing to encourage. After all, one world you know he’d have no mercy for is Earth, you once home. But, this is your home now, the two lives in your womb need a safe place to be born and raised and the only place for that is here, in Asgard. Here, in Loki’s bed, in Loki’s arms, as Loki’s queen.  
“I want to make you happy.” That’s not a lie, but that’s not the only reason why. Loki seems to sense this and the look he gives you is scathing. You blush as the full truth tumbles out.

“I want to keep our children safe.”   
Time is at a standstill as Loki cups your chin.  
“So then, I was correct-“ His gaze travels down your naked body to the tiny bump of your belly. Green eyes filled with mirth glitter as he kisses you, hard and dominating. Within seconds you’re on your back, hips hiked up and legs spread to allow Loki to sit between them. His cock is firm, pressing to your mound, your slit still sticky and wet from your previous coupling.   
One shove, and he’s inside you, filling you to the brim. You moan, reaching up to grab the pillows, knowing he won’t let you touch him without permission.  
“So fertile my sweet princess. Already you bless me with two heirs, how generous of you, how pleasing you are to me.” He groans, slowly thrusting in and out, relishing your soft moans and sights relaxing into the bed as he fucks you leisurely.

It’s not making love, but it’s close.  
Loki gently rocks inside of you, rubbing your clit to make you whimper in pleasure and gasp at each shift in his thrusts. He uses you expertly, and as you beg him to cum he laughs to himself, rocking your hips and rubbing your sides as he savors they way you squeeze his cock even after his brutal fucking earlier.   
“My darling one, my sweet little mortal-“ He coos, a hand rubbing the bump that barely is noticeable.   
“You are beginning to grow with them. Soon, my fairest, your breasts will swell with sweet milk, your body grow sensitive and needy for me; your luscious form will provide everything for our children.” In your sex addled mind you latch onto one phrase.  
“Our children-“  
“Yes love-“ Loki bottoms out, his balls firmly pressed to your ass and his cock kissing the deepest parts of you, “-Our children.” You cry out as his thrusts sharpen, hitting your g-spot with his inhuman accuracy and soon, you’re a simpering mess, begging him for permission to cum.  
“Mas-Muh- Master- Ple-please-“ You fist the sheets above your head, face flush and panting as you fear you can’t stave off your own pleasure for much longer. The sight of you so, flushed with desire, marks of his possession of you, his claim, evidence of his domination and your willingness to submit in the most base form makes Loki groan. You’re pregnant with his heirs.  
And your body is desperate for his cock to provide more.   
“Cum my little slut, my sweet, dearest queen.” His purr at your new title sends you over the edge, his name a scream as you cum, pussy milking the torrent of jizz he sends into your abused channel. Perhaps it’s his less than human physiology, but you feel like there is more than normal, like he’s actually built up some from not having you in so long.

His cum oozes from your abused hole and you moan for your lover, fingers reaching down to stuff it back in, prevent it’s escape. Loki just laughs, reaching to thrust the toy in your ass and make you go boneless all over again. He’s held back for months, taken no other bed mate in ages and now you’re in his arms again. You are his weakness, his foolish obsession and yet he cannot stop himself. You’re his- utterly and completely his and he hates it, hate you as much as he loves you. You submit to him so beautifully, you trust him in his cruelty and wickedness and don’t try to change him but adapt to him. You’re perfect and _he hates it._

He watches you cry out, tears in your eyes from the over stimulation and he knows you’re his weakness. His little mortal queen, helpless and needy, you need him to survive, to adapt and become the woman of power he knows you have the potential to be. The sight of you in his colors, his crown on your head, hair braided as he’d done your wedding day had driven him to madness with reminders of how close he'd come to losing you to death's embrace. How dare you risk yourself for him, how dare you risk his children? How dare you make him feel fear?

You are his weakness.

Loki moans, spilling himself in open air against your body as you cry out, orgasming from the toy he’d set in your ass to ready you for his claiming of your final virginity, the last vestige of your innocence. You are the one thing he loves more than power, more than the throne, the knowledge he has everything Odin once denied him. He loves you and it terrifies him how far he plans to go to ensure you’ll never leave him.

Three stones he has, powers at his will, unfolding his own potential. He planned to unify the nine realms to ready for the fight with Thanos, to ensure his rule would be eternal. Now, looking at you smiling in his bed, flush from pleasure and looking at him so sweetly, so lovingly, like he is the only one that matters-  
He loves you and as he kisses you and holds you close, Loki realizes his plans have changed again because of you.  
He won’t take the nine realms and beyond to defeat Thanos and cement his rule.   
He’ll take them to ensure you’re safe, that you will never leave him again.

His hand strokes the roundness of your belly.  
He’ll conquer the realms, and ensure none of his ever come to harm ever again.  
To ensure this little family he'd never thought he'd have won't be taken from him, like everything else he has ever loved before.


	45. Public Display

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ’Tis not a time for private stomaching.

Trying to ignore the fact you had a sex toy in your ass, you sat as prim and proper as a queen of Asgard could be.   
Provided she was seated across her husband’s lap as he grinned like he’d just won the lottery. He might as well have, the pair of you having spent all of yesterday in bed, letting him fuck you into the mattress and you turning into a weeping mess at his hands in both pain and euphoric pleasure. You had eventually fallen asleep in his arms, and when you woke to his embrace you had cried. Finally breaking down you wept in his arms confessing that you had been scared without him, that you missed him and the thought of him not being there for you or your children terrified you. You had cried so hard, so badly that you’d even begun to hiccup as Loki has smiled in his kind way, rubbing soothing circles into you lower back.   
“I would never leave you long my pet.” He’d cooed, kissing away your tears as he pushed you back into the mattress. “No force would stop me from coming back to you.” You cried harder at that. He was cruel, saying such loving things, such words of devotion. Your devilish liar love.   
“You liar.” You even had called him out on it, but Loki had just pressed his lips to you neck and hummed out a ‘always’. His hands held your own, fingers laced together above your head, he’d thrusted into you slow and deep, savoring the morning light and the feeling of being with each other again. He was cruel, because despite what your mind told you, that he indeed lied, he really would stop at nothing to come back to you if it came down to it. Such feelings, irrational and heartfelt were not good. You shouldn’t believe Loki so easily, not after everything, not in matters of the heart.  
Yet you did, and that part of you that kept being drawn to him didn’t care.

So now, a few hours later you sat in his lap, wiggling every so often when his hand would creep down to caress your bottom and passively remind you of the toy lodged inside of you as a form of ‘preparation’ for later debauchery. Not that you could have denied him even if you wanted to. His expression -one so lusty and dark- had made you whimper under him, lifting your ass to accept what he gave you without so much as a question. Now you smiled for the entering nobility, all seeming to find that sight of you, a woman who had until that moment sat regally and unflinchingly unyielding to any demands now sitting on your King’s lap like a common strumpet was... different. You bit your lip between introductions, leaning into to steal a kiss (or three) from Loki who seemed very pleased by your small flirtations in front of the court.

“Royal,” he growled after what had to be your 8th stolen kiss of the day, “if you keep insisting on distracting me, I do hope you plan to make up for it.” There was a warning there, one you chose to ignore.  
“I am always ready to serve my king.” Loki’s nostrils flared as he sucks in a breath, hand squeezing your rear and making you yelp much to his amusement and the mortification of the court. Their King might have been known for mischief, but even this was a bit much. A king didn’t flirt with his queen on the throne- much less have her sitting on his lap. A king should be dignified and composed, not openly groping his wife and eye fucking her for all to see.  
You hardly can give a damn, blushing red and burying your face into Loki’s neck when he laughs at your sudden flash of bashfulness. The toy in your ass keeps you on edge as well, knowing that if you pushed too far or gave him reason to- Loki wouldn’t hold back for the sake of others. You were his and he would never pass on an opportunity to show it.

“Lords, Ladies-“ He lifts a cup filled with mead, “-I am glad to be home. I know much has happened in my absence, but my queen had carried out my will perfectly. I thank you all for aiding her and assisting her as you have. That said, a threat to Asgard and the nine realms has been neutralized, in part thanks to my lovely queen’s actions on Sakaar. Tonight we will feast in her honor!” The men in the company cheer and the women politely clap. In your blush to Loki’s praise you look at him from your place on his lap.

“Silvertongue.” You whisper. His green eyes dance in the gold light of the court.   
“Pet.” You smile, sighing as you sink into him, relaxing as the people begin to ready for the court proceedings, no doubt a few matters being your own personal directions while Loki’s been away.  
“When we’re done here-“ You nip the shell of his ear and feel him harden under your rear, “take me to our room and let me please you.” His compliments were never free, and you knew he’d want to fuck you after you held court. So long as you instigated, you could have a bit of control with him starting out.  
His purr rumble in his chest as his fingers rub into your thigh.  
“Any reason you’re so eager for me my dearest?”  
“You’re going to fuck me anyway.” There is no point in hiding the truth from him. “I just want to have a bit of a say in how.” You admit the reason and he glares at you suddenly.  
“I determine what we do-“ You kiss his chin, cooing and pushing yourself further into his hold.   
“I know but- I’d like to be able to dance with you tonight, to be by your side and not be afraid of drugged wine.” His snort isn’t missed by a few nearby councilmen. You don’t want his ire for your want to have a bit on control. You want his agreement.  
“You will not be partaking of any wine.” You smirk, for all Loki is manipulative, he so readily allows you to manipulate him.  
“Not even if I’m drinking it off your cock?” You say it loud enough so the closest councilmen can hear you and they sputter.

Loki laughs and kisses you full, and insistent.  
“No love, not even off my cock. Will a sweet water suffice instead my dearest wife?”   
“Perhaps pomegranate juice. We do have that here don’t we?”  
“We do.” You and Loki’s sexually charged conversation of bedroom activities is now being heard openly by quite a few, the room going almost silent.  
“It little bit bitter but strong and lightly sweet- The perfect flavor to match you.” His eyes move to the few men nearby. A silent asking if you’re willing to go further. You answer him knowing what he wants.  
“Council, a quickie, the feast and then-“ You whisper into his ear so no others can hear you.   
“Teach me how my king wants his little Midgardian queen.”  
His growl is sharp as he kisses your roughly, pupils blown in desire.  
Checkmate.  
“Oh pet, the things you manage to do to me.” You smile, closing your eyes and sighing contentedly in his lap.

“I love you.” The admission is so casual, you almost don’t even realize you’ve said it until Loki’s voice echos loudly in your ears.  
“And I you my dearest (y/n).”

The rest of the council meeting is uneventful, and those that express dissent over your plans to make war reparations to other realms are chastised by Loki who in his own words, ‘Wish to forge a new era for Asgard, one on truth and integrity. One without secrets and one that would have allies rather than occupations.’ He only grits his teeth at the mention of Jotunhiem, and you know exactly why. A few quick touches to his chest through the silk tunic lessens his ire, and you hope the idiot who brought up that realm thanks you for your efforts to stop Loki from smearing his face all over the floor.

What was more distressing was Lady Sif, who despite being cordial with her, was tactless with the new she brought from Midgard.

“They know she’s here, and they’re demanding she be released.” You flinch involuntarily, hands digging into Loki’s shirt at the thought of being sent to Earth. You’d seen planets- entirely different worlds, aliens by the dozens, fought and scrapped and lied and stolen and cheated just to survive. You couldn’t go back to earth, nothing on earth called you, nothing made you need it. The things you missed, your friends and family- they’d all moved on. You had been registered as dead so who-

“Sif-“ you look at her from Loki’s embrace, who’s own expression is cool. “-How did they know?” She shrugs and you feel anger flair up. “Sif-“  
“Was it Odinson?” Loki’s voice is neutral and you tense, knowing all too well what a guarded Loki might mean. Sif shifts on her feet but you catch it, the flicker of her eyes as she answers.   
“No.”

You grab Loki and hold him as tight as you can before he has a chance to lash out. Instead, he’s only able to stab gungnir into the floor and crack the while marble tile.   
“And what do those mortals want with my queen?” He hisses.  
“They accuse you of controlling her mind and-“ Her unease is magnified and you sense she wants to find a way to escape if need be, a few council members also are tense.  
“They accuse you of violating her.” 

The cracks that split in the floor are impressive if not for the fact the stem from your husband who looks ready to kill the first person who dares comment. You begin to panic. Loki is bitter about his brother for a number of reasons, and covets you like he does all things he believes are his.   
“You did.” You murmur at him, looking at him, begging him to direct his rage at you and not at Sif, who despite her love of Odinson, has done nothing but deliver the news of developments on Midgard.   
“You raped me before, several times.” His jaw is tight and he flashes teeth at you, fury in his eyes.  
“And I still love you.” You kiss him and just like that, Loki sucks in a breath, wrapping his arms around you as you kiss like you might die without him.  
“Pet.” He says softly and you nod.  
“Master.” You run a hand up his neck, running fingers in his hair as he looks at Sif, anger and fury still fresh, still at the edge waiting to be unleashed.

“I was told she sent the good doctor with a token of peace and her word- did they ignore such?”  
Sif scowls. “They think you have altered Banner’s mind as you have her’s- the fragment of the Bifrost is with Sir Stark.”  
Loki growls and you hum from your place. The council never had someone to curb Loki’s wrath like this before, and you get the sense that after today, they might accept you and Loki’s marriage to be more than just one based off of lust. Loki never does things he doesn’t want to do- and yet so far, you’ve probably stopped him from breaking half the room and maybe stabbing someone.

“We can deal with Midgard soon my King.” You to brushing his hair with your fingers. “The both of us. We know I can’t go back alone-“ You reach with your free hand, placing it over your belly. “-but, we’ll find a solution. We’ve already handled more dangerous things than a bunch of weak willed men haven’t we?” His hand rubs your bump and Loki sighs, sinking back into his seat with all the wind gone from his sails.   
“You will not be going to that infernal rock while still so very-“ You kiss his chin to cut him off.   
“Later my king, my love.” You can feel him relax at you calling him your love. “Let us deal with domestic issues, and we can worry about Midgard in the morning, perhaps-“ You smile, slipping the hand from the back of his neck to his chest. “-in a more pleasurable setting?”

The council might like your ability to curb Loki’s ire, but diffusing him with sex is also likely to get them to dislike you, the prudes they are.  
“Let’s wrap up here.” You offer. “We need to find a way to bring that Fire Giant, Sutur? To heel. I don’t like the idea of him coming and destroying my new kingdom.” Loki looks at you, the perfect mix of amused and irate.  
“Your new kingdom?” He purrs, teasing you, asking you to be demanding, to give him reason to punish.  
“Yes, mine.” You pinch his hand that still rests over your belly. “What is yours is mine, and what is mine is yours. That’s part of how a marriage works Master.” The title slips out on accident and your eyes widen while red rises to your cheeks. Loki snorts back a laugh and shoves your into his chest to practically smother you in his embrace.  
“So demanding my little queen. Very well- let us work on your little worlds project and play nice.”  
You smile into his silk shirt. “For now.” You almost think he can’t hear you but then, his voice ghosts over you.

_“For now.”_

 

His magic brushes over the toy in your ass, and you shake, wishing the damn council was over so you could go back to your rooms, and enjoy the punishment Loki has planned for you.


	46. Prepare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being held a foe, he may not have access  
> To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear.

The gentle push pull sensation coming from behind you makes you whine each time it threatens to leave you. The toy that is. Loki’s infernal new way to torment you and punish you at the same time. Anal was never a thing you ever thought you’d do let alone want, but Loki was Loki, and he had his way of making you want the things that you knew were bad for you. Panting on the plush rug in the middle of your room, Loki made sure you were made to be on the edge of uncomfortable with how he teased. You’re on your hands and knees like a dog, while Loki sits next to you in a chair, stroking one hand up and down your spine soothingly while his other keeps teasing your rear hole with the threat of removing the toy entirely.

It wasn’t that it was too big or stuck- it was that the ridges and bumps were far too stimulating to your walls that they had any right to be.  
“Pet.” His hand tapped each vertebrae in your spine, working his way down. “You were far to impudent at the council today. Talking out of turn like that, making my men doubt my orders-“  
You gasp, feeling him twist the toy so it rubbed along a part yet to be stimulated. “I-I- auh-“ You can’t form words, arm shaking as you try to thrust back onto the toy, wishing Loki might give you stimulation in places far more pleasing. Places like your neglected cunt, soaking wet and dripping down your inner thigh and filling the air with the musk of your desire.  
“What’s that my princess?” He croons, pulling the toy slowly free, making you cry out and tremble harder, eyes blown as you ride the edge of orgasm. “You only wanted to help?” You head frantically bobs up and down, wanting something more- anything to push you over the edge.

The hand slapping your ass is just the thing, as the pain rushes through your body, you scream his name as your cunt clenches down on nothing; your pussy letting out a tiny gush of fem cum to roll down your thighs. You pant frantically, knowing you won’t be able to hold yourself up much longer. Loki’s torment had been going on for the better part of an hour, and he’d not partaken of any pleasure for himself. Outside of watching you struggle to hold back your orgasms and pleasure. As you shake, pussy and ass throbbing, begging for his cock, you knew you’d disobeyed, coming without permission.

Punishment came in the form of him grabbing you by the hair and roughly dragging you between his legs, his cock free from his pants, hard and hot in the open air.  
“You disobedient thing- Sweet princess, how will you be a good queen if you cannot even obey your King?” The dark glint is in his eyes, and you whimper. He’s losing himself to his darkness, and all you can do now is ride it out.

His cock thrusts down your throat hard enough you gag around him, palms hitting his leg as you threaten to throw up from the sudden intrusion.  
“None of that-“ He hisses, hand on your hair pulling tighter while the other grabs your throat and squeezes. The need to gag is gone, but the pain in your jaw and the hard unpleasant feeling of him so deep persists.  
“Take me like you want it princess!” he shouts, dragging your mouth up and down his length with gusto. “You want it- Don’t you dare act like you don’t!” He shoves you down to his root, black hair rubbing roughly against your face. Tears form in your eyes at the pain, and as he keeps fucking your mouth, you begin to cry around him.  
Like most things you do, it only serves to further incite his lust. 

His orgasm is hard as he thrusts, bottoming out in your mouth while an inhuman amount of cum is sent down your throat. You can feel your body starting to struggle and panic set in, unable to breathe as Loki keeps you locked in place, servicing him and his need. You hit his leg to get his attention but it had the opposite effect. He looks down and grins, eyes black.  
“That’s right love-“ He moans, and you feel another gush of cum slide down your throat. “-Choke on my cock like you were born to do.”

He won’t let you go, not even as your vision begins to blur and darkness takes you.  
You wake not long after, Loki stroking your face lovingly as you feel the pain in your jaw and throat as well as the residual wetness of your tears still fresh on your face.  
“Welcome back pet.” You whimper and turn from him, wanting a brief respite. Bu that isn’t given to you as Loki pushes you onto your side and slides himself in without any warning. It hardly hurts given your body’s natural reaction to him, but the feeling of him so readily wanting you so soon after a violation is… hard. It’s always hard to embrace him after he lapses into his darkness. One day, you worry it will be too much and you’ll just-

“Relax my love-“ He gently rocks himself inside you shifting so the tip of his cock ends up kissing your g-spot. “Let your king see to your needs.” He croons, moaning in your ear as he fucks you in a more gentle manner. It doesn’t take long before your thrusting back into him, soft gasps and moans leaving you as he abuses your body with his lusts. Hands run over your breasts and feel the tremble in him. You knew he liked the idea of your pregnant but-

“Are you sore yet?” He’s gone you realize, lost to his perversions, his lusts. “I wonder if I begin to suckle, will your body provide for me as it will our sons?” You almost laugh, thinking Loki would be one to assume the babies would become male. Your would be laugh turns into a loud moan as he sinks deep, rotating his hips to make your walls flutter around him.  
“Do you crave sex as I do? Does your body drive you to lust, just as the sight of you growing round with our offspring drives me mad?” He thrusts harder, more insistent.  
“What would your heroes say, seeing you so wanton, needy for my cock? Would they call me villain for seeing to my little wife’s needs? For ensuring her desires are met, matched?” His hand reaches down, cupping the bump. “What would they say, seeing you heavy with our sons?”  
You reach behind you, cupping the back of Loki’s head, wanting to see his face, to know if he’s lost in jealous possessiveness or-

His green eyes are passionate and wide, his breath ghosts over your ears and you moan for him.  
“Take me.” You gasp as he thrusts again. “Take me to Midgard, fuck me-“ You feel your body ready to give out, give in. “Make them see the woman who would love a monster.”  
His orgasm is hard and he shouts your name loud enough you guess the servants have all heard. It’s not like Loki ever closed the door all the way, much less the windows. Asgard would be getting quite the pornographic soundtrack for the foreseeable future.  
You mewl quietly, your own release smaller as your walls milk him, trying to gain what isn’t needed anymore, your womb already claimed and full. 

Moaning softly as Loki removes himself from you the sheen of sweat on his skin is pleasing to see. He almost never is truly exhausted after sex and to see him so unfocused, so undone is pleasing in a primal way for you. You did this to him, unraveled him, made him tired and weak. You have brought him to your level, and you relished in your power. His head lolls to the side, green eyes peering at you.  
“Would you allow it?” He asks, reaching out to pet your hair as is his habit after a particularly intense session. “Me taking you in front of them?” You’re still half lost in your post coital bliss and manage to hum out a sound to let him know you hear him but to give you a moment. When your mind is fully your own again you answer.  
“It would be more effective to do it where they’d see it unwittingly. Make them the intruders upon our time together.” Loki laughs, bright and breathless, he rolls over and begins peppering your face with soft kisses.  
“What cunning little queen I have.” You blush at the praise, reaching over to run your hands down his shoulders and arms.  
“It- well making us seem like sex crazed maniacs that might be coming to conquer Midgard hardly seems a good image.” His face reaches your neck, growling.  
“Have I told you how pleasing it is to hear you call it Midgard my queen? To know you have left it behind and embraced my kingdom as your own?” You squirm under the praise once more. Loki is being especially affectionate.  
“I am your’s.” Is your answer for him. “I go where you want me.”  
“And if I want you to kneel before me and suck my cock in front of your precious midgardian heroes?” You blush, knowing he’d do just that if tempted enough.  
“You wouldn’t let them.” You kiss his chin. “You’re the only one who gets to hear my prayers and needy moans.”

Loki laughs again and sinks into the mattress with you, embracing you gently with his hands protectively over your belly.  
You smile, enjoying the momentary bliss.  
“We are supposed to head to the feast you know.” He hums.  
“You’ve never been to victory feast have you love?” You heart hammers at him calling you his love. “They last for days, we will not be missed.”  
You pinch his hand. You both needed to show that the relationship wouldn’t be wholly sexual and your bedroom antics wouldn’t distract from public duties. “We need to at least show up.” Loki huffs, ignoring. With a heavy sigh you know he’ll need something to give him reason to go with you.

“If you don’t go, how will I get to lick the wine off your cock under the table?” 

Loki had never magicked you into your clothes before, and much less whisked you to somewhere other than the bedroom before as well, but the utter mischievous glee in his eyes made your heart flutter.  
Under his darkness, you cherished these fleeting moments, when you saw a man you guessed few others did.  
A God of mischief, determined to run and rule a kingdom as only a god like him could.


	47. To War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’ll set thee to school to an ant to teach thee there’s no laboring i' th' winter. All that follow their noses are led by their eyes but blind men, and there’s not a nose among twenty but can smell him that’s stinking. Let go thy hold when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it.

The welcoming feast was just as Loki had said it would be. Lasting for days you were convinced that you’d have a food nap worse than any thanksgiving turkey dinner with how much you ate. Not that Loki particularly helped in that; the man had practically had fed you, bringing up each bite to your lips, more often than not with his fingers than any utensil. It was both erotic and enchanting. He kissed you with each bite you took, reminding you that you were eating for three, and he wanted you to taste Asgard’s finest.

It was however, a thrill to slide down his body when no one was looking to pull his cock free and suck him off while everyone enjoyed the revelry. He also chose a very delightfully sticky sweet juice to have ‘spill’ over his lap. No wine- you did have two little ones growing after all. It was a night of joy and secret debauchery, culminating in him making love to you in the gardens, surrounded by flowers and under starlight.  
“Not my exact promise, but it is the best I can offer you for now my love.”

He’d made love to you there under the Asgardian stars- and it had left your crying in his arms from the rush of emotions. He’d been so innocently concerned, thinking he’d well and truly harmed you, but you’d kissed his fear away, kissed him and called him your love, your savior, your punishment and reward. You were his- and you wanted to be nowhere else.  
You slept in his arms that night, and have every night since.

For a while at any rate. Now, six months pregnant, your baby bump showing predominantly, you are subjected to a new form of torture from Loki.  
 _Abstinence._ Shortly after his return, he’d been forced to gather the forces of not just Asgard but several other realms to handle the threat that was Sutur of Musil-whatever. At first, he wasn’t needed ‘at the front’ and could spend his nights with you though he did so infrequently because of said issue. Your days had consisting mostly of learning Asgardian, All-speak, history and policy which while he wanted to oversee, he was too busy to have time for. But now, the war had reached a head, with Loki and his powers needed to face the Fire Giant ruler himself.

That was two weeks ago when he’d left, and your body was begging for him back. As was your mind. No one took you seriously, and when they did, they underestimated you greatly. The only ones who seemed vaguely to see you as the woman who had perhaps the most power in all of Asgard were Lady Sif and the warriors three. Sadly, they all lacked the mental challenge and stimulation your craved.   
Your lust for Loki was somewhat solved by sending him messages through his enchanted mirror, fingering and fucking yourself to his commands, knowing that he’d ravish you when he returned, but mentally?  
Mentally it was boring, all your lessons aside. 

Your perhaps one comfort was the semi-enigmatic gatekeeper Heimdall, who while he distrusted Loki, (for good reasons you’d found), he was amicable enough with you, entertaining your questions about the nine realms, about what he could see, about Loki’s youth, about Midgard.

The place you had a swansong in your heart for. A little blue speck that your eyes couldn’t see, but for the golden eye gatekeeper-  
“Your majesty.” His always greeted you with his eyes forward, staring out into the cosmos. You still found his need to stand on formality however, to be a bit much.   
“Please- Just call me (y/n). You know how your majesty makes me think that Loki is somehow returned.”  
“If your King was here, you would not be.” You sigh a bit. Your king- not Heimdall’s. A very clear line drawn.  
“If he is not your king, then am I not your queen?” He turns and looks at you contemplative before he answers your question.  
“You are Royal, and you have chosen Asgard as your home.” Cryptic is the theme for most of these magic users you’ve found. Still, Heimdall seems fit enough to take another round of inquiries over the realms you will one day rule from Loki’s side.

The elves- what does he see about their crop crisis? The dwarves- do they still strife among their clans? The frost giants- do they waste away further without their casket?  
Midgard- The questions die in your throat. It’s hard, asking about what you’ve left behind, forsaken. It’s hard to know that it’s no more your home now than Sakaar is.

“Doctor Bruce Banner sits at his desk, the woman known as Black Widow making him tea to help him sleep.” Heimdall’s voice is even, and he gazes out to the blue planet you were born on.  
“Your parents sit at their dining table, sharing a meal and smiling, talking of going to the beach.” Your heart hurts, but you smile, bidding the gatekeeper to continue.  
“Odinson mourns in his cups, his hammer were it fell, yet now he tried harder to be as he was, to find his way, yet he remains lost. Sir Antony Stark and Doctor Jane Foster study the Bifrost shard, their portal nearing completion.” You look at Heimdall, wondering suddenly-  
“How close?”  
“They have run tests. So far, they have not had enough energy or a suitable target.” You look out at the cosmos, standing and feeling something inside you.   
“They use the Bifrost as a means of locating where Asgard might be, so that they might confront Loki before he goes to them.” You recognize the feeling inside you with Heimdall’s words.   
Dread.

“Does Loki know?” The gatekeeper remains silent.  
“Does my husband know?” You press, and the golden eyed man looks away.   
“Answer me Heimdall! Does Loki know they are trying to make their way to Asgard?”

You shout but get no answer from the gatekeeper. Rather, a voice you’ve come to recognize as a constant companion reached your ears from behind.   
“No, and he never will.”  
Heimdall suffers a brief look of shame as Lady Sif pushes a cloth to your face, and the world falls to darkness.

 

Loki cannot wait for this all to be over with. As far as leaders go, Sutur is the most insufferable, his sole desire to go and set fire to Asgard and destroy it. Once, Loki would have let him, perhaps joined him even in such a task. But now, Ragnarok is in his will for a distant time, and he is not ready to see the kingdom so hard won brought down by an unruly immortal. Not to mention, he _missed_ his mortal. The sweet being that he managed to claim as his wife. Perhaps unorthodox, but she was queen and carrying the heirs to the realm eternal.   
Sure, he was able to see her with his magic, telling her to do depraved acts to herself for his pleasure. Ordering her obedience from afar, watching her come undone to his words and her mind crafting the solicitations as imagined realities. Not that they would remain imagined. Oh the thing he had planned in store for her…

He thought perhaps, once she grew more heavyset with pregnancy he’d be dissuaded, the act being no longer needed, yet the opposite had been delightful in it’s discovery. Seeing her get more round, more developed stirred his lusts in a way he could only describe as primal. To know she was so fertile, so receptive, that it was his seed that had taken root, his children growing in her womb drew a newfound lust in Loki he’d never quite known he’d had before.

His sweet, fertile little queen who had crafted the most simple yet elaborate lie in order to wrest control of the nine realms to Loki’s will and later, the inheritance of their offspring. She might not know it, but he was not fooled. She loved him as a means of adaptation for survival. Love, the kind of true and pure love was not for him. Her love was what he could get. Twisted, broken, corrupt- yet his. So painfully crafted, cultivated, and molded to him that now, she would always be his for better or worse.

In a way, he thought it bittersweet. Had he been a decent man, a man less broken and less cruel, perhaps her love would be true. Perhaps then their union be one where she’d not look at him at times with fear. Yet he loved her fear, even if he’d come to love her smile and laughter more as of late. It was sentiment he had for her, and he loathed the weakness it brought. Thanos had warned him that his sentiment would be his undoing, and Loki hated to even consider that the Titan had been right. His sweet Royal was his weakness, and he knew that in a few months time, his sons would be as well.   
It was why he had not been entirely reluctant to deal with Sutur himself. The less threats that were posed to harm what he possessed, what was so intimately his, the better. 

Speaking of which-  
The fire giant ranted about how he was Asgard’s doom, and how Loki would be the one to begin Ragnarok himself.   
True, but the Trickster King had no desire for that as of the moment. Swirling the reality gem in his fingers, Loki smiled. It was a pretty thing when not consuming the lives of it’s hosts. For now, Loki only needed it to aid in a tiny thing-

The casket opened, he watched the realm of fire and ash freeze, trapping it’s residents in an icy prison.  
“Sutur, perhaps you will consider that while I certain will watch Asgard burn one day, it will not be while I sit on it’s throne.” He’d left the now fireless fire giant’s head exposed, as he might have later need for the immortal’s ear. Of knowledge.  
“Whelp! I will not be stopped-“  
“And I have no intention to stop you Sutur.” The giant gave him a skeptic look.  
“I am the harbinger of Chaos, but it is not yet time for it. Not yet.” He winked. “But, you will have your day Sutur. For now, we have bigger threats. After all Mad Titans wait for no man.. or gaint.” He thought it a bit clever, given both their true natures.  
“What is a Titan to an immortal?”  
“A threat- if Thanos gets his will all life, even yours will end. Ragnarok is destiny, fate, and will have us reborn with the rest of the universe. But Thanos is courting death itself.” The ember eyes of Sutur narrowed as Loki went on.  
“Thanos is one who would give a true death, a final death. Consider this your time of reflection Lord.” He bowed mockingly. “Ragnarok will come when I invite it as is our destiny. But Thanos would end all. So I will let you consider the choices. Stay your sword from Asgard while I am it’s king and aid me in the Titan’s demise, or continue as you have, and I seal you in ice eternal until Thanos takes you and your realm for himself.”

Sutur howled as Loki left him there, his work done. Normally, the casket’s ice would not be enough to hold the Firey Lord long, but the reality gem was such a wonderous thing.

 

“Heimdall-“ He looked to his men at the camp, beaten after months of fighting off demons and lesser giants. “Open the Bifrost.” As the rainbow bridge failed to open, Loki felt something prickling in the back of his mind.  
“Heimdall-“ Nothing. The sensation grew deeper, and Loki knew quickly that something was amiss, something was wrong.  
“HEIMDALL OPEN THE BIFROST!” The rainbow light engulfed him as he felt himself pulled back to Asgard, his men falling in behind him.

What greeted him were the warriors three, ashen faced and guilt in their eyes.  
“What has happened?” He knew. His mind screamed as bile swirled in his gut. His feeling deep and resonating. “Where is she?” They looked away and he knew.  
He knew.  
He knew he knew he knew-  
“WHERE IS SHE?” Volstagg was the first to break, tears at the corners of his eyes.   
“We meant no harm, we thought it best if she-“  
“WHERE IS MY WIFE?”  
 _He knew._

The gatekeeper, golden eyes looking past the glow of the Bifrost gazed at the tiny blue planet.  
“The stolen bride is gone from here, Loki Laufeyson.” The name had the God of Chaos burn with rage.  
 _HE KNEW_  
“She is where she is wanted.”

Loki would later reflect he did not care in that moment what it would take-  
“She is returned to Midgard, as she should be.”  
You were his, and he would do anything to get you back.   
“You will never have the victory you seek.”

Anything, including go to war.


	48. His Fear, His Knowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens?  
> It is the part of men to fear and tremble  
> When the most mighty gods by tokens send  
> Such dreadful heralds to astonish us.

Loki had almost killed the warriors three and Heimdall.  
He’d almost killed every guard in the palace.  
He’d almost killed ever handmaiden.  
He’d almost killed everyone that dared approach him in the hours following your abduction.

Yet he hadn’t.  
Instead, he’d had the traitors sent to the prisons, because he knew if he killed them, _she would be cross with him._  
He’d sent the guards to patrol the borders because if he did not, _she would have told him he was being foolish._  
He kindly bade the handmaidens away to their homes until you returned, as if he’d yelled _she would have scolded him in that righteous fury you had when he did something unwarranted._  
He’d sequestered himself in his chambers, because if he hurt someone due to your abduction, _you would blame yourself._  
You, his beautiful, kid, sweet, loving wife who’s only desire from Asgard was to see it become a home for you and your children. 

He screamed from his very soul, wondering why you’d been betrayed. He could understand the dislike, even the hate of him. But you- You were blameless. Your only crime to be loving him as a means to adapt, to survive, to find a happiness and life that had been stolen from you the moment you fell upon Sakaar. You, who wanted equality, lost children to have homes, for people to have work, to see a kingdom without suffering and strife. You, who wanted to give her children a world without pain and loneliness. To give them a world where they would not suffer or fear.

Loki howled and wept into his hands, the feeling of powerlessness so alien to him he felt like he was once more at the Titan’s mercy. Tears- so alien to him, unusual and strange- like all things you drew from him; love, devotion, mercy- you made him feel more than he wanted to feel, made him be less the monster he was supposed to be and become more the man others might see him as.  
You, a mortal woman, had bewitched him.

And now you were gone, on a world hostile and no doubt, hidden from him by that infernal Doctor Strange and his mystic wards. Grabbing a nearby vase, he threw it, relishing in how it shattered and left water and broken flowers along with shards of glass in it’s wake. He relished the small destruction until he saw the flowers on the ground.  
Roses. Lovely white roses that you’d told him you found charming. Roses he’d instructed the maids to bring you everyday while he was gone. He’d planned to bring you a bouquet of them upon his return. It was a Midgardian gesture, but he knew you’d enjoy it. Such a simple thing, he imagined how happy would be at his return, the smile filling your eyes at the sight of the roses. Your laughter as he’d show you what he planned- a royal garden full of Midgardian flowers, and you’d be the one to select them. His mother had a garden once. The queen before her had one as well. They had been small, but Loki wanted you to have a haven, a space that would be your own, surrounded by things that came from that little blue world he knew you still loved but dared not voice to him.

He wanted to bring you roses, see your smile and hold you, trying to feel the movements of his sons. To go over names with you, you plan the nursery, to lay with you at night in his arms again, so soft and warm and content-  
Loki looked away from the fallen flowers.

You were taken from him, abducted and betrayed. Sif would pay dearly for this- he knew her love of Odinson was foolhardy but this? To take you to Odinson as a bartering chip? A tool? If the oaf ever wanted to reclaim Mjolnir he’d do no such thing. Loki was positive that while his brother was many things as of late, he was not without all honor, and would not stoop to torturing hostages. His allies however were the ones that concerned Loki. As far as he knew, Stark was still a man of science but with a sense of pride. He also was beholden to his lover, a peaceful being… Banner was a given, he may loathe Loki, but the beast would sooner harm his beloved Widow than see you hurt, especially with his children’s presence so visible. The man out of time was honorable and would try to shield you from the very group he once served- Yet others remained a mystery. 

Your pregnancy would be a defense but also an exploitable weakness. Not to mention, he shuddered to think what barbaric treatments they might subject your or his sons to. 

There was little time. He had never wished for war if he was honest with himself. Sure, taking over Midgard would be a balm over his intentional failure of conquest once, but if war could be avoided, he would do so.  
The problem was just how to reach the infernal rock without causing the very war he hoped to avoid.

 

Stephen Strange had seen and encountered many things since becoming the sorcerer supreme. He’d fought aliens, brought low interdimensional beings, faced off against cosmic entries, encountered sentient items, but nothing had been so jarring as the woman who sat in his office of the New York branch of the Tal-Maj, fretting over her husband and the worry he must feel. Her husband, who also happened to be perhaps the biggest threat to earth in over a millennia.   
Loki held not just one, but two of the infinity stones to Strange’s knowledge, and it was traveling news in the multi-verse that the Trickster King was seeking more. 

The time stone hung heavy on his neck.

Still, looking at the panicked woman, he felt guilty. She was for all intents and purposes, an innocent who happened to get caught up in what was ultimately, a family fued fueled by alien arcane arts and senses of entitlement.   
“I did what was right!” The additional issue she’s unwittingly been drawn into also was screeching at the Odinson. “She belongs here! With her people, just as you belong with us!” The Lady Sif, (though, could she really be called a Lady at this point with her betrayal and manners?) was yelling at the former God of Thunder, trying to convince him that keeping Loki’s wife and the legitimate queen of Asgard captive on earth was a good idea for the sake of leverage.   
Strange had to admit, the Odinson was showing surprising tact with the situation thus far.  
“Sif, he will retaliate and not with simple tricks! She is his-“  
“She’s a passing fancy Odinson! Give or take 50 years she’ll die like all of her kind do.” Perhaps not the thing to say to the once lover of a mortal woman. Odinson growled and Sif quelled her rant.  
“She doesn’t belong on Asgard.”  
“She belongs with Loki Sif. She made that choice to betray her people. It is not our place to offer her up like a sacrifice-“  
“And how will you stop him? He plans to rule the nine realms!”  
“I will reclaim my hammer and put a stop to him as I always have done!”

Strange sighed. Let the Asgardians bicker. He had bigger problems on his hands now. Sif’s appearance with the unconscious queen had been noticed by a few key players, but for now, Stange had warded them to be unknown to said players. No reason the covert S.H.I.E.L.D and the growing HYDRA front to get their hands on her… for a multitude of reasons. Odinson summoned as a mean of stalling, Strange worried that perhaps it wasn’t the wisest of choice at his initial reaction. Apparently, the man thought her a traitor to mankind, and nothing more than a puppet of Loki.   
What Strange saw however. was a woman. A woman who’d become lost on an alien world and had found someone able to offer her a salvation in exchange for her flesh. Maybe he really did love her somehow- Banner’s account of Loki, begging to save the woman was entirely unlike the Loki all others recalled, and Banner had not had his mind tampered even in the slightest. Strange had made sure of it.

The woman he saw was worried. Worried for her unborn children, growing and practically radiating magic. Worried about her husband who she even said would go into a panic over her abduction. Worried that said husband might start a war. Worried that people might get hurt. Worried for Sif, for Thor, for him even.  
Strange saw a woman who cared too much and wanted only a sense a peace. She had a good soul. A soul too kind for a being like the Trickster King. 

Leaving the Asgardians to bicker, he joined her in the room, clearing his throat for her to notice him after several beats had past.  
“Oh.” Her voice was soft and unassuming. “Sorry, I- I’m used to the feeling of sudden appearances. I assumed you just wanted to observe me.” He blinked.  
“You are used to the feeling?”  
Her smile was reminiscent, a happy memory in her eyes. “Loki often enjoys moving himself to my presence, and I’ve learned how the air shifts when he does it. Usually, he just comes into the room and watches me.”  
Strange guessed his face must show his thoughts- that it’s creepy and odd.  
“Oh like, it’s sort of like sitting next to someone in silence. You enjoy proximity, being near them and watching them enjoy what they do. I sometimes do the same while he writes or reads.” He gets it, or, he thinks he does.  
“Sorry, I can’t say Loki is one I’d expect to be fond of anyone, let alone a human.”  
“Please, let’s rip off the bandage. I’m not human, not entirely anymore.” The sheer melancholy radiating from her was palatable. But, she’s right. Carrying two frost giant-aesir human hybrids had altered her biology subtly. Not to mention Sakaar did a number on her as well. Even taking into account that she was having literal alien offspring, her entire biology had subtlety shifted from whatever she’d been exposed to on Sakaar. From what Strange understood, her leaving with, (or rather without), Loki had probably saved her life in the long run. Humans reacted oddly to alien substances. 

“True, but you were born here and there are people who miss you-“  
“Like my parents?” Her voice was cold, and Strange was struck that perhaps, he’d made a mistake. “They buried an empty casket years ago. What good would it do to tell them I’m alive? Alive and pregnant with the children of man the media has told them to fear and hate. They should be allowed to have their peace, they deserve that much.”  
Strange had dealt with his fair share of unique and unusual people, but he didn’t think she would be someone so… aware. ”I’m afraid that’s not my decision to make.”  
“I don’t want them to know.” He knows she’d worry more, and he can’t blame her. She has too good a heart, too much light in her soul.   
How Loki and her manage to convince themselves they’re in love, he shudders to think about.  
“It may be too late for that. Sif’s arrival was noticed, and not just by the main players.”  
“Hydra? SHEILD?” If she knew about these things; he was left to wonder-  
“How much do you know about the events on earth since you’ve been gone?”

Her eyes went down to her feet, clad in silk flats encrusted in tiny gems and beads. “Loki ensured I was well versed of those who would pose a threat to me and our children. He told me about HYDRA, SHEILD, The events of Ultron, of the falling out between Captain America and the Avengers-“ Her eyes caught his own and Strange realized he’d made a horrible, horrible mistake.  
“He also told me about you.”

Loki hadn’t just taken her for a pretty face and willing lover. She was cunning, smart, tactical. He realized that the entire time she’d been here in the Tal-Maj, she’d been looking at her surroundings, going over each detail. Inspecting, calculating- he noticed the letter opener by the desk now missing. Strange had missed the most obvious fact of her being Loki’s wife. Loki wouldn’t lower himself for a human woman on premise. He’d never have married her unless she offered him the one thing he craved. Power. He’d never sire a child with her unless she would give him heirs that would match or surpass him. Loki, the God of Chaos would take nothing less than the most perfect foil to match him at the most opportune moment.   
Looking at the woman, pregnant, murder in her eyes with her hand over her belly, Strange realized he’d made a _mistake_.

“Doctor Stephan Strange, wielder the Time Gem.”  
 _He’d underestimated her._  
The letter opener in her other hand, a threat not to himself but to her own side, where if stabbed, she’d bleed out in moments. Where her children would die.   
“The sorcerer supreme. Protector of Earth from mystic and inter-dimensional threats.” She stared him down.  
“Now tell me everything what’s going on, before I give him a better reason, a real reason, to start a war.”

You were more than just power for Loki.  
You were his equal.


	49. News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naught’s had, all’s spent,  
> Where our desire is got without content.  
> 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy  
> Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.

Stephan Strange is surprisingly astute for a man who’s partially responsible for this whole mess you find yourself in. The letter opener held in a white knuckled grip, you kept it pressed to your abdomen the entire time he talked, explaining what was happening and going on, and, who you could expect to see in the coming days.

Sif had abducted you, collaborating with Heimdall to return you to earth in an effort to get Odinson the leverage he needed to have Loki alter the enchantments on Mjolnir so he might wield it again. A thing even Strange noted, wasn’t even possible given that only the hammer’s forger could alter the core essence of the weapon, (and Odin was very much dead). Sif had arrived at the top of the former Stark Tower, and it was only by luck that she’d been picked up by Strange moments after. Mostly because those currently working in the former Tower were a hodge podge of undercover HYDRA and SHEILD agents all pretending to be unassuming government workers. 

Having brought you to the Tal-Maj, he’d been told the plan, to use you and your unborn children, Asgard’s heirs, as bartering chips, Strange had keyed into the fact it was a terrible idea, close to a war crime, and had immediately separated you from the warrior woman and brought Odinson to deal with her.  
Not that it was doing much good. Odinson hadn’t seen you yet, and Strange had overheard most of their conversation- the giant of a man hardly had nice things to say about you, but, even he knew that kidnapping you was a fast ticket to getting Loki pissed.

The problem was less Odinson and Sif, but more the fact that you had appeared on the top of the Former Stark/Avengers Tower, in the arms of a known Asgardian Warrior ally, unconscious, and wearing not just Loki’s colors, but a crown eerily similar to his own.   
The media was picking up the story, and speculation was growing with each passing hour. As far as Strange knew, the Avengers, (or what was left of them), had yet to ‘assemble’ and as far as Strange was concerned, he only trusted Banner to be on your side for this process. 

“Banner- He’s well? I-“ You felt a glimmer of happiness, wondering if you could see him again. It was a momentary drop in your stalwart self-harm threat and yet Strange smiled, relaxing.  
You only realized why when the letter opener vanished from your hand.  
“Hey-“  
“I’d rather not risk you hurting yourself or harming your sons by accident.” You blush. What is it with men thinking it will be boys? “But, I will be contacting Banner. A few of the avengers trusted my word when I said Loki hadn’t done anything to his mind, but others less so. He’s also Stark’s favorite, and if you need anyone to offer you some way to smooth this over, it’s will be Stark’s PR team. I might be able to do a lot, but explain how a human woman became queen of Asgard and also isn’t Odinson’s wife is a power I do not have.”

That did beg the question, how to deal with Odinson.  
“Has he been drinking?” The question makes Strange confused then-  
“I mean, I gave him some ale when he arrived but nothing strong.”  
Odinson hates Loki, deeply, but- “You said he hasn’t seen me. Is he aware I’m pregnant?”   
“Maybe?” He paused. “You’re wondering if his idea of you might change if he saw you pregnant.”  
“Men tend to get hyper emotional and protective of ones they consider family. Loki- he loves Odinson. Don’t give me that look.” You scowl at Strange’s skepticism, warrented as it is.  
“Loki does feel, some might say he feels only for himself and in part that is true, but he does feel loss. Losing Thor, Odinson, pains him. He offered the throne to him, but was in turn-“  
“Blamed for Odin’s death and decried by Odinson. I know.” You see the sadness in Strange’s eyes a flicker. “I was there. I don’t like him, but I knew that what was said was cruel, exceptionally cruel, even for Loki.” You wilt. It hurt to be reminded that once, perhaps, Loki had tried to be good, and had been rejected because of it.   
“He tries. A lot of people don’t see it or want to see it, but.. he tries.” You whisper, hand rubbing the bump that houses two products of just that- Loki trying to be a good man in his own way.  
Strange doesn’t argue it.

“You think it would be safe, for me to meet with Odinson?” The doctor closes his eyes for a moment then-  
“Yes. I’ve been keeping my eye on him since he arrived last and while he’s certainly less heroic than in the past, he’s not brutal. You think he’ll bend with-“ A hand motioned to your belly, “-that.”  
You grin, feeling that Loki might hate you if you somehow manage to smooth things over with Odinson by the way of your unborn children rather than letting him deal with it.  
Loki is sometimes, too painfully like a human man with his ego you can’t help but laugh.  
“Send him in, and lets see how he reacts to the news he’s going to be an uncle.”

To say you were entirely right would have made Loki furious.  
Odinson gapes at your pregnant belly, blue eyes trying to fight back tears and his posture uncertain. He’s man, like many others, and like men of Asgard, family, legacy, is more important than it should be. Even if not related by blood, some part of Odinson still sees Loki as his brother, and the way he bumbles over asking if he might touch your belly is proof of that.  
“You can. Here-“ You reach out, guiding his hand to a particular spot one of the twins likes to kick at.   
The movement felt, you smile as Odinson’s composure begins to crumble.  
“You- you would claim me their uncle?” His voice is soft and he stares at the bump, lost.  
“Loki still thinks of you as his brother and I- I have never had a sibling. But I want my sons to have a family, and if you were a part of that…” You smile. “I think I’d like that.”  
Odinson chokes up a bit, “Sons- boys- **twins**?” He looks at you a mix of hope and trepidation.   
“Loki is convinced. I refused the ultrasound out of spite really.” He laughs, rubbing the bump as your children seem to react to his presence.   
“Twin boys- have you names for them yet?”

You open your mouth but a wave of sadness hits you. “No.” You try to smile but find it hard. “Loki and I planned to discuss it when he returned. I know he’s not one for sentiment so I hardly expect him to want to give them name of his relatives. But, I did hope he might offer ones that would be.. special for us.”  
“Narfi and Vali?” You gape at the former god.  
“Absolutely not! I know it’s all made up but I’m not naming my sons after children who died. Good god even I’m not that stupid to tempt fate.” You push at Odinson’s shoulder and he laughs, he laughs and you see that glimmer of Thor, the avenger.  
“He would press for those names, if just to make myth real.”  
“More to give me a heart attack. I’m no Sigyn.” He looks at you eyes narrowing in inspection. You scowl.  
“I am not some kind of Goddess of fidelity. Besides, I told Loki if he ever cheated on me I’d leave him with our children. He got mad with that but I told him I would. Though, he tends to scorn most women at court.” You realize how casual you’re now with him, Odinson.  
“… Do you truly hate me though?” He backs away.  
“You’re Loki’s wife.”  
“And I love him.” You have a feeling perhaps you might have overestimated Odinson’s Asgardian beliefs in familial ties.   
“I- I wish to say I trust you, but I cannot. I can understand a woman’s love, a mother’s love, but with him.. I can’t trust anything.” You reach out grabbing his bicep gently.  
“Then do this, for me, for your nephews-Don’t let them hurt me or my sons.” You need him to understand. If anyone will be able to offer you protection by legal right, it’s him. By law, he is Odinson still, an heir of Asgard, and you carry the King’s children. More, you are married to a member of the royal family. No matter his disowning of Loki, you are still connected.   
Odinson looks at your belly again and sighs.  
“I want to trust you.”  
“Then trust that I love my children, even having not met them, I love them. They will be your nephews; please, please understand- I don’t want to end up a prisoner, I can’t let them take my babies from me.” He swallows. “I can’t let them turn my children into weapons.” He blinks and backs away.  
“I can’t trust you- but I will do what is right.” He looks lost again, like he’s trying to reason with himself that he should abandon you.  
He leaves the room, and you feel your children stir, as if wishing he might come back.

That night, you dine with Stephen Strange, talking about aliens and their habits, how earth must seem strange to so many of them yet such a prize to be won with it’s robust biodiversity and ability to produce thousands of edible crops. Midgard, Earth, is a crown jewel which Loki would have, and no matter what kindness Strange pays you, the subtle smiles and wiry remarks, you will not yield in this. One day, Midgard will belong to Loki. If not soon, then in the far, distant future.  
You only wish for it to be a bloodless claim.

Yet that wish is ripped asunder when Strange slaps down that morning’s copy if the New York Times. A HD photo of you in Sif’s arms in your regalia, next to the last photo of you before you’d been lost to Sakaar. The headline is telling of just what will come.

‘Missing Woman Found And She Is Loki’s Queen!’   
You scan the page for their source and to your horror and revulsion, his name appears in bold fond under the headline. Odinson. You recalled the look he gave you, the vow he told you. To do what is right. You run to the nearby bin to vomit and terror creeps up your spine.  
Odinson would do what was right but not for you.  
He’d do what he thought was right for earth.


	50. Kingsmeet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look!

Loki wanted originally, once he’d gathered his thoughts, to slip in on Midgard, take you back, then send actual loyal soldiers to the crown to retrieve her for treason. No matter what Midgard’s leaders would think or say, she was a traitor, and harboring her would have boded ill for them.  
That was the original plan.

Now, looking at the various newpapers, Loki is deeply reconsidering his options. You’ve been painted in two lights, starkly contrasting with one another. One, you are the woman he found on another world and decided to keep as a personal trophy for his pleasure, while you’d been abused and manipulated to Stockholm syndrome and were in fear of him and his wrath to find yourself back on your home world. The other picture of you was a traitor to Midgard, sleeping, (literally), with an enemy and colluding to take over the planet.   
While technically, the second one wasn’t wrong, the media was acting as if you were a malicious war mongering power hunger woman who enjoyed being his wife and queen, figure head she may be, (that was wrong, you had power- so much power, so much power is scared him). Interviews litter the inserts. Your family is distraught, claiming you can’t be real, you’re dead, and if you are real, you’re not their daughter. Their daughter would never agree to be a tyrant’s lover, a invader’s slave.   
Loki bites back the anger for his in-laws. She’d chide him if he did anything rash to them in a fit.

Odinson speaks candid, finally letting the ball drop. He’s exiled, Loki is alive, and he rules to a complacent populace. Odin is dead, Loki-Allfather is King.  
Long Live the King.

What drives Loki’s ire into over drive is the reaction of earth’s mighty heroes. The UN is calling for them to act, to ready for war. But Stark, Banner, King T’challa, and Vision refuse. They are claiming that you were brought against your will and never wanted to be on earth, that you wanted to return to Asgard. You’re pregnant, and keeping you hostage is all but ensuring he will come and seek retribution, (very true). Yet those like the Widow, ‘War Machine’, ‘Spider-Man’, (a literal CHILD! And they call him monstrous, at least he never enlisted child soldiers), and frankly every SHIELD agent is calling for you to be imprisoned. Some, going so far as to have you stand trial for collusion and aiding a known terrorist. The fallout with the man out of time lingers, and he is silent, as are others who acted with him. 

Loki knows that Banner will at least keep you close, knowing you carry two non-human offspring and having a bond forged from fear and humanity. Stark- Loki is glad he can see reason. The wielder of the Mind stone no doubt knows more than he says, yet the King, the one who radiates power from his very pores is the odd man out. He reeks not of lies, but deception. So, Loki follows him. What he finds-

 

“Now, of all those I would expect to find hiding from the very government that they upheld for so long, you are the last on my list.” His voice vibrates in the room. Vibranium encloses them, and Loki has to hand it to the young panthress. She is smarter than most of her race, perhaps smartest.  
Steve Rodgers jumps along with the rest of his allies. Loki knows James Barnes, ‘Bucky’; HYDRA did not fail to mention him in his brief time on Midgard. The small man, the hawk, (who looks paler than a human should), a falcon, (Loki is honestly shocked they do not have an eagle companion), the scarlet witch, they do not know him. But oh they know of him.

Weapons drawn, the Panther King garbs himself in metal, cutting himself off from weapons. But Loki has no desire for blood, no matter what his more base self thinks. He cannot take you home- not without allies, not without war.  
And he wants to avoid war.  
He just hopes you will appreciate all the efforts he makes for you.

“You know, for a guy that is named Loki, you are not very Low-key.” The tiny panthress speaks first, making a pun at that, and he cannot help it. She is fearless in her fear, weapons on her fists, ready to fight in a room full of those stronger, faster, powerful. She is a fighter.  
He can respect that.  
“Unfortunately, subtlety is not my favored way of announcing myself, unless of course, I want to cause mass panic more than has already been created by my wife’s abduction.”  
The men tense and Rodgers opens his mouth to speak but again, the tiny pantree speaks first.  
“So THAT’S why you’re here!” Her weapons drop and she darts out from behind the men, shocking and terrifying her brother and king. “My readings picked up a strange signal a while ago, and it was a lot like Thor, er, Odinson. But not quite. I figured it was you, just had no idea why, but Dr. Banner made that statement about you actually loving her and her needing to go back and now- You want our help right?”

Loki isn’t sure what to do.  
So he laughs.  
He laughs, walking to a nearby chain and collapsing in it.  
“Child, you truly are smarter than your peers.” He likes her, she reminds him of you.  
Yet her brother is not so quick to grasp it all, storming over, claws barred and fist gathering the front of Loki’s tunic.  
Or it would, had he not caught an illusion.  
“Stay your claws Panther King, your sister speaks true, I have come for aid.” He loathes the taste of it, but it will get you back. It must, he cannot, will not, leave this rock without seeing your face.

“You have killed-“  
“As you have King T’challa, all for what you hold dear. If however, you mean my brief stint as Thanos’s aid, well, that’s a long story for another time. Besides, a handful of human lives lost is a small price to pay when one considers the alternative.”  
Rodgers comes forward, a new shield in hand. “And what alternative was that?”  
Loki sighs, feeling older. He hates this part, the admittance that he was once the pawn. “The death of Yggdrasil. An end to Midgard, to Asgard, Vanaheim, Jotunheim- all the realms destroyed in the pursuit of death from a being cosmic and insane in his need to kill.” He watches them and Looks to the winter soilder, missing an arm.

“Lives that will be lost still, if I do not regain my wife and unite the remaining realms before he comes.” ‘Bucky’ keeps eye contact and then-  
“You turned down HYDRA.” The gets the ball rolling, the men in the room confused as Bucky goes on. “They went and- you told them no, that you wouldn’t kill needlessly. They offered me and you-“ He blinks. “You made me dream about before the war.”

Loki had done so, needed to. Bucky had been an asset, just not one he wanted to use. Besides, the man’s mind broken could not be controlled. So he’d healed a part of it, created a backdoor for healing, for reclaiming what was hidden in the dark depths of his mind.  
“It didn’t suit me to break what had already been broken- and your skills would be better used by those you felt for, rather than who felt for you.”  
“Wait, are you saying you helped Buck break free?” Rodgers is shaking his head, disbelief easy to see. Loki nods.   
“In a fashion. His mind was shattered, protecting his inner self. I know because I was forced to do the same for a time. It is no way to live, much less properly do what must be done. I figured that one day, perhaps I could have use of him, so I made a way to heal his mind at a later date. It just so happens, you did that all your own.” He grins, feral. “Good Job.”

The room is silent for a beat and slowly, Loki watches as Bucky comes closer, eyes hard, focused.  
“Why come to us? You want her back, but she’s with Stark and the others.” Loki nods, but then looks around the room.  
“Because you all have one thing they lack.” He pulls it out, the one thing he has from you. It was taken in haste, a small thing, a stolen moment really.   
It’s a photo, small but detailed. You’re in a dress of lavender and white, smiling for the camera and grasping Loki’s hand to pull him into the frame.   
He wears a smile, the likes of which he’d never thought he’d express again.  
“You understand what it means to do the right thing, even when all others expect the exact opposite.” 

The young panthress, come forward, against her brother’s hold, and she looks at the photo, eyes critical.  
“Why not bring an army? Why… this?” She looks at him and he sees your reflection in her eyes. Midgard is filled with humans, short lived, yet brilliant, beautiful. Shuri will change the world one day, and he estimates it will be for the better.  
“Because war will leave many dead, war would break her heart, and if war begins? She will die, all because she chose to love the monster that wanted to possess her for an eternity.”

He leans back and looks at the motly crew.

“You love her?” Rodgers scans him and Loki nods.  
“In a way the is far deeper than what you humans can understand.” You are his heart, his haven, his home. He is lost without you. He thought fighting Thanos for Asgard would help him, make him good but he knew deep down he’d abandon it if he had to. Yet to abandon you, his sons, yet to even be born- it sickens him and keeps him awake at night. He has made his choice. 

Rodgers sits down, and looks him in the eye as Loki casts him a wiry smile. “You want us to help you get her back, and also get us back in favor with Stark and his team- so when this Thanos comes calling, we’ll be better prepared.”

Loki’s smile turns into a grin.  
“So,” he says, picking up the photo and tucking it away again, “would you prefer to hear first? My plan, or about Thanos?”

 

They ask questions into the night and by the end, he is given a gift. A phone of the panthress’s own make.  
The background, set to the image of your smiling face.


	51. Visions and Petitions

The world moves quickly when it hates you. You have been moved several times since your meeting with Odinson. First, to the London Sanctum, then to the Avenger’s compound, and now, back at the New York Sanctum. Strange wanted to keep your location as secret as possible, and, he also wanted to keep Odinson away from you. Why, you knew very well-Because of his reveal, he’d placed you directly in harms way, putting the spotlight on you when the situation could have otherwise been controlled fairly well. The trip to London was to throw him off, the compound to gather Banner, (and let you cry in the good doctor’s arms while he soothed you and gave you assurances that he’d keep you safe until Loki arrived), and the return to the New York sanctum was to complete the circle. 

Strange was convinced Loki would be able to find you no matter where you were, but it was a matter of making sure no others could. And while Banner was on your side- you had to convince the others who would join him that you were not a threat. Sure, on TV they said you should return, but they’d not help you do it. They would prefer to stay out of the way and let Loki come play fetch. The problem was, your husband’s way of fetching things could lead to an entire toppling of a planet’s ruling system and send it into spiraling chaos. Not that Sakaar wasn’t already a mess but Loki didn’t do it any favors when he’d left.

So now, dressed in a modest pair of black jeans with a soft emerald green chiffon top with gold beading, you sit across from two people who by all rights should terrify you. One, is Tony Stark, who looks ready to ask something you know will make you uncomfortable, the other is Vision, or rather, the being that houses the Mind Gem. You cannot help but look at it uncomfortably. It has the power to do many things, and your husband has told you of what such a being who wields one might do.  
“So, you actually slept with him-“  
“Tony-“  
“No, no, I mean, I assume that there wasn’t much sleeping involved actually, but at least tell me: Was he any good?” 

You go crimson, and with all the courage you can muster you manage to eke out a reply to Stark’s invasive question.  
“My husband is called Silvertongue for more than one reason if that is what you mean.”  
The Vision looks at you and mutters and ‘Oh my.’ While Stark snorts his coffee.  
“I didn’t think you’d answer. Gross, now, anyway, how did you end up with him? I mean, Thor, sorry, Odinson filled us in but ever since he lost his favorite toy he’s not exactly been reliable for being the same all around good guy he used to be plus I’d rather hear it direct.”  
“Banner should have-“  
“Bruce did tell us, but he had spark notes, you’ve got the essay, so now Queen Bee, tell us how exactly did you end up married to the universe’s biggest psychopath.”  
You stare him down and Tony leans back as if you might attack him.  
“Please refrain from calling my husband a psychopath. He’s a narcissist and egotist with an inferiority complex but a psychopath is not one of his qualities.”  
A beat, the Vision looks torn.  
“And yet you say you love him?”  
“Love is not an easy thing- and not a thing once can just control.” He nods... And you begin to tell them of Sakaar, how you had slowly died until Loki have given you a new reason to live, to fight for freedom. How Loki had hurt you, and in his way given you the means to survive and win back all that had been taken from you. By the end Stark looks disgusted.

“He- He raped you.”  
“Several times if we’re being frank.” Stark’s expression is a mix of confusion, pity, and anger.  
“So how- how can you still-“  
“Love him? Easily. I choose to love him, knowing he is flawed, but knowing he is also more than just that part of himself. Should your fiancé Miss Potts renounce her love of you because of your prior abuse to her? She does not, and have you also changed from the man you once were?”  
“That’s different. I have-“  
“She’s right Tony.” Vision speaks calmly and smiles ever so slightly you might have mistaken him as human. “Loki is likely not the same man who attacked earth years ago. If we choose to believe Bruce and Miss (y/n), then it is clear he cares for her.” He looks at you. “But, not in a way we might grasp so easily, correct?” You nod, and Stark sulks in his chair much like a child. It somewhat reminds you of Loki’s petulance, and you stifle a tiny giggle.  
“What’s so funny Princess?” The name has you freeze, a frown darkening your face and you manage to murmer at them both.  
“Please do not call me that. That is-“ You close your eyes, his voice and echo in your memories, “It is a very precious word to me.”  
They both look at you and Tony sighs. “You really do love him.”

For such a smart man, Tony Stark can be rather stubbornly foolish…. Much like another man you know.  
“I wouldn’t have chosen to carry his children if I didn’t.” You put a hand over your belly and Vision looks at you, as if trying to solve a riddle.  
“Alright. Just- let me think this all through. I’m not saying I’ll help him get here, but sending you back? Sure. Foster’s been cooking up the ol’ future Bifrost. Plus, Pointbreak kind fucked you over massively and if helping you means more fun space gifts-“  
You laugh, “You would enjoy Asgard Mr. Stark, Bruce did as well. It’s a lovely place, once you get past the racist old men.”  
“Racist old men? Glad to know that’s not just an earth thing.”  
“Oh, it’s unfortunately very pervasive in Asgard. Loki has been trying to get changes implemented but it has been a.. trying process. However, we did manage to open up the armed forces to women so, it’s a start I suppose.”  
“What, now you’re saying Frosty is a feminist?”  
“You’d be surprised what political leanings my husband has. But, try not to call him that to his face. He will only rarely show me his Jotun side, and even then he’s very ah-“ You blush, “He does so only after a fair bit of enticement.”  
Stark blinks.  
“Well that was something I didn’t need to know.” You grin.  
“He is a frost giant after all, and when you asked if I am left satisfied well… He is not-“  
“Okay, I’m sorry I ever asked can we move on now?” You giggle, and Vision smiles.

“I think I can see why a trickster god would fall for you miss (y/n).” You wink at him, and the Vision smiles wider.

At the end of the day, the duo agree: The complex is too dangerous, and The Sanctum will be the safest spot for you. Stark plans to have you meet with Dr. Foster, Thor’s former paramour, and also lead on the soon to be functional ‘Eisen- Rosen…’ something. Stark calls it the Bifrost v2 for your sake you suspect. The only issue is-  
“Do you know of my husband’s history with the mind gem?” The Vision is both the stone but also… not. He is perhaps, one of the few who would be able to grasp the threat of Thanos.  
“Yes. He wielded it for a time but before that-“ He looks distant and then- “I have no memories, but I do know it was used. I assume you’d like to discuss it’s presence? Are we to assume Loki wishes to-“ You hold up a hand, shaking your head.  
“As for what I know, he has no plans to reclaim it, unless of course, you posed a threat to Asgard or the nine realms with it. More, I am just curious if you know of Thanos.”  
“The Titan?”  
“Yes.” The android made man looks at you.  
“You believe that he will come for the stone, as Odinson saw in a vision.”  
“It is not a belief, but fact. Say what you will for my husband, but he fears Thanos’s power for good reason. He seeks the gems not for power so much but for guarding. The mad titan comes, and so my husband seeks to unify the realms before such a time. Fragmented, the chances of Thanos being defeated are minimal at best. But if one were to unite the realms for a common goal-“  
“Yet, he wishes also to lead them, to rule them.”  
You pause.  
“That… is less for himself.” You’re hesitant to tell the Vision of Loki’s true purpose. Your true purpose in aiding him. Yet the Vision looks at you then, your belly.  
“I imagine giving two children one crown is something that he would know first hand does not work.” You scowl and snap back.  
“The throne of Asgard will go to the one who proves themselves most capable.” Not a lie, yet Vision presses carefully.  
“Ruling many realms as a single man would be difficult, and Earth is quite varied in it’s cultures. You’d need a fair bit of assistance to know how to use it’s own system to one’s advantage.” Ah, so now he wants to know if you would be set up as the ruling party or aid Loki in a possible manner with your knowledge.  
“Unfortunately I am not a political major and raising our children, even partially here, would be…” You feel it, that cold reality. Midgard is not home anymore. Home is far, far away, where your husband waits for you.  
The Vision softens his tactic. “Perhaps one day-“  
“That day will come, but it will be long after all who would remember me are dead, and those who could stop my husband from keeping me safe are gone.” You smile, if sadly. “The world will change Vision, slowly, but it will change and eventually, one side will be forced to yield. Loki craves Power, that much is true, but he is a patient man when he wants to be. He also has no desire for wars or needless battles. No, he’d much prefer to let Midgard develop on it’s own, and when it is ready to parley with Asgard, he will do as is needed for the realms.”

You look at the sky and feel a pang in your heart.  
“I wish I could show them this place- I- I love Midgard. Still, after everything, I love it and miss it. But it’s not home, not anymore.” Your hand rests on your belly out of habit, stroking.  
“He is my home now, and I am his haven.” You feel it, one of your children kicking and you jump a bit, murmuring a soothing hush. 

The Vision stands and nods.  
“The Mind Gem will remain here to protect this world. I too am fond of this place and if Thanos comes-“ You nod.

The mad titan is a lingering unseen threat, but no less real. Eventually, he will come to face the nine realms and seek the two gems on Midgard.  
You can only hope when he does, Loki has a plan to stop the end from beginning.


	52. Interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is such a shitpost of a chapter but I swear it has a purpose.

Your days have been a whirlwind of meetings. Strange has become something of your personal chauffer, opening portals to your destinations, and Banner your bodyguard. Its almost funny, seeing his normally shy reserved self, standing in front of you like he might stop the world. Yet you go where you need to be- mostly, to Stark’s personal residence, meeting with his PR team to set up a series of vetted interviews to help paint you in a better light and to shed light on the situation. Now, the culmination of these various meetings has reached a head. You’re first interview is of all things, with Buzzfeed News. You had chosen it because it was fitting- they did in fact, report news, but also were notorious for their tongue in cheek humor and chaotic way of reporting.   
Loki would have approved.

The interview is both livestreamed and recorded, the woman interviewing you dressed in a business casual outfit in pastel. You however, are dressed in gold and green, your crown worn, polished just that morning for the occasion.   
“So- let’s get to some nitty gritty- what the heck do we call you?” She sits off camera while you sit on a simple backless stool, and thank the many lessons your husband had insisted upon when it came to ‘proper’ posture.  
“If you mean my title, it would be Her Majesty, Queen (y/n) of Asgard. Your highness, your majesty are used by my people, as do some call me their lady. ‘Lokiswife’ is my Asgardian surname now, as my father and mother have disowned me. So… truthfully, you have quite a number of ways to address me. Honestly however- I much just prefer my name.”

The woman nods enthusiastically, and behind her, Bruce is giving you a reassuring smile.  
“Okay, (y/n) it is. So tell us, _Is he really worthy of the name Silvertongue?_ ”  
You grin, looking directly at the camera and suggestively wiggle your eyebrows.   
“My Husband is worthy of more than just that name, though I rather like his simplest title best.”  
“Which would be?”  
“God of mischief. He makes me laugh- small things he’ll do or say. No matter how sad I feel or the pain I have, he has a way of making me smile. I love him best when he is true to himself and his aspect.”  
“Nice. But, we have to ask- are we looking at the Return of the King?”  
“Hardly- the King of the West has come and gone if we are to believe the tales of Tolkien. My husband however, will return one day, but it will be to establish peace, in a time far, far from now.”  
“Was that a Lord of the Ring reference?”  
“ Yes, but you miss my words. Loki and I will one day return here, to Midgard, but our aim is one of peace. He is not wishing to waste the lives of good Asgardian men and women against a race that would struggle to survive in a planetary war. For all his grandiose actions, he’s a rather practical man and sees unnecessary bloodshed to be just that- unnecessary.”  
The woman paused.  
“Another question- why did you appear here? There are a few stories about, so mind giving it to us straight.”  
“Of course. I had been waiting for Loki to return from Muspelheim on a peace mission so we might begin to ah-“ You blush, a hand hovering over your belly. “We planned to discuss our children’s futures. But when I went to the Bifrost to enquire about matters of the realms, I was assaulted by the Lady Sif who drugged me and brought me here, in her misguided attempt to use me as a means to enable Odinson to reclaim the throne.”  
“The story on that-“  
“With all due respect, the story you have on Odinson’s lack of crown is grossly ill-informed.”  
“Uh- care to elaborate?”  
“Loki _declined_ the throne, asking Thor to take it, to help his transfer the power peacefully, letting Loki leave to explore the nine realms and Thor to rule as was his birthright. But Thor- he denounced Loki. Cruelly. He claimed many untruths which wounded my husband deeply. I think, perhaps, what hurt most was to be told that he should have been killed- The hammer, the mark of his worthiness, his powr, his birthright, his very name- it forsook him. Thor is no more, and now Odinson must face his faults, and my husband is left to rule a realm he never truly desired.”

“That’s certainly a different story. How do we know it’s true?”  
“If it was not, do you really think the people of Asgard would suffer a tyrant usurper for a king?”  
“Lady Sif did betray you-“  
“And it is just that, a betrayal. I trusted her, and it was misplaced. Odinson and I have spoken and it has come to my attention he thinks very little of me and Loki. He is angry over many things, but- Loki wants to bring him back, but unless Odinson reclaims the hammer, Loki cannot in good faith, allow him to return.” You take a breath. “Understand, the hammer is more than a weapon, it is a symbol of Thor’s intent, his will to do good, to be good. Without it, Loki fears what sort of man Odinson is. He- he was unkind to me when we first met, and posed a threat not to me but- my children.” You shake slightly in your seat.  
“The fact he betrayed my trust, announcing to the world who I am- he knew my fears, that my husband would be enraged, that he would come with armed forced to get me back, that people would harm me by the fact I am his wife, that I carry my children. I begged Odinson to keep my presence here secret not-” You feel the sting of tears.  
“I could care less if I die, but my babies, they’re innocent. I love them, I haven’t met them but I lovetmhme just as I love him. And Odinson didn’t care. He- he knows what will happen if I am taken to stand trial, to be subjected to if captured by a force such as HYDRA. I can’t, I won’t let my children be used as weapons. I won’t let them become experiements.” You feel the hate and fear in your voice.  
“I will do anything to keep them safe.”

The interviewer looks uncomfortable, but nods, offering you a tissue to dab your eyes.  
“Forgive me. It- He told me that a queen should never have a reason to cry, if she does, her king has failed her.”  
“Has Loki failed you?”  
You smile softly, sniffling the last of your tears away. “Many times, but each time he has, he has apologized, made right, and become better. He is flawed, but he is chaos, and the very nature of chaos is change. He changes in his own way, because he loves me as I love him. I don’t know how else to explain it really.”  
“You really do love him, don’t you?”  
“More than even he knows.”  
“You gave us a recount of your encounter with him, and your time on Sakaar. We wanted to ask- is it true then? That there are just that many aliens?”  
“Oh yes. Thousands, but there is little reason to fear them. On a cosmic scale, Midgard is very small and very… quirky. Most don’t like it because it’s hostile outright, and underdeveloped. Others don’t see a point to it as you are completely creditless so trade isn’t an option.”  
“Credit?”  
“The typical form of galactic currency, also called Units. For the sake of comparison, one credit or unit is worth roughly one dollar.”  
“So when you mentioned you had seventy million units-“  
“I was a **very** good gambler on Sakaar.”

You look directly at the camera.  
“Tip: if you ever fall into a rift that spits you up on a planet- Use alien’s lack of knowledge on Midgard to bullshit your way into making them bet on stupid things. I won a million units by betting I could eat a jalapeño pepper and the aliens at the bar all thought it would kill me. _Aliens don’t know shit._ ”  
You laugh a bit.  
“I’m sorry. It’s one of my favorite stories. Loki loves it when I recount it for him. Oh- Do you want to know a funny fact about him?  
“Hell yeah!”  
“Loki hates peppers. He can stand them in cooked food, he also likes spicy food in general, but any raw pepper is disgusting and horrid to him. I’ve teased him before by eating raw bell peppers at dinner. He always gives me a look and has to look away.” You giggle.  
“One day he’s going to find this interview and punish me.” Behind the interviewer, Bruce looked horrified. Perhaps that was not the wisest thing to say.  
“Oh- uh, you say he’s hurt you in the past so does he…” You look at the woman who has no tact but then, you did say Buzzfeed first.  
“Oh No! Um.” You grin, looking directly at the camera. “He’s just rather fond of certain punishments you could say.”

“(y/n)!” Bruce yells from behind the camera, which swivels to show the set and a very flustered Dr. Banner.  
“Please, I’ve obviously fucked the man, I mean im almost seven months pregnant Bruce. I’m fairly sure people are not surprised we have a healthy sex life.”  
“Oh my god you’re making my job so much easier, this is the part where I get to grill you about him in a not serious manner. Rapid fire questions, you ready?”  
You laugh, nodding.  
“He’s a frost giant so does he live up to the title?”  
“Jotun is the more correct name, and oh, very much so.”  
“Nice- now, you’re familiar with “Loki’s Army’ right?”  
“His fanbase?”  
“That’s the one- how do you feel knowing that he has fans?”  
“A bit flabbergasted. I imagine if he found out he’d be flattered and encourage them, but I do not share.”  
“You have names picked out for the twins?”  
“No- Loki and I have yet to decide. And No. Narfi and Vali are NOT on the table.”  
“Dang, shooting down the fan suggestions. What about-“  
“I’ll tell everyone what I told him. I’m not naming any of our children after his mythological ones. Even if it would scare half of Asgard.”  
“So- what’s the deal with the horns?”  
“Ceremonial, he got them when he came of age- something about an animal and- frankly I haven’t a clue, but it’s part of his what one might consider his coat of arms. Much like Thor’s hammer is for him.”  
“Are all Asgardians hot, or is that just Thor and his friends?”  
You pause. “No, they’re actually all ugly. Truthfully, Loki is the only real handsome one there.”  
“Oh my god, that was corny.”  
“Yes, but that’s my opinion and I’ll stick to it.”  
“One final question.”  
“Ask away.”

The woman smiles.  
“How long?”  
You grin and hold up your hands. The entire room breaks out into hollers and one woman in the distance yells ‘GET IT GIRL!’

You cannot help but hope that if he is watching he enjoying the show.

 

Miles away, Loki laughs, thinking how he’ll have to punish you for saying he’s smaller than he actually is.


	53. Final Act

There is no accurate way to really describe what happened next. One minute, you’re composed on international TV, being interviewed by the BBC and talking of how you refuse to meet with the UN until they publicly can guarantee your safety and promise you will not be held against your will or subjected to inquiry on your husband’s affairs when out of the blue, you turn blue.

Or a mild cyan if you wanted to be a bit more accurate. 

You’d just drank from a bottle of ice water, feeling unnaturally warm when suddenly, you just weren’t. It was only when the poor man asking questions yelled out a in fright did you notice your complexion and in a very unperturbed manner you responded with “Oh well now this hasn’t happened before.”

Dr. Strange and Bruce had both rushed to your side, concern evident on their faces. Bruce took his place between you and the rest of the crew and security, while Strange wove his mystic magic over you, trying to find the root cause. And perhaps not a few seconds had passed when loud enough for everyone to hear-  
“You’re children, they’re too warm. We need to cool you down. Bruce, grab hold, we’re cutting this interview short.” A portal jump, ice bath, and two grown doctors fussing over you, the fall out is over the evenings news.

You’re children are distinctly not entirely human, you aren’t either, and Odinson has already come forward to call Loki a frost giant of Jotunheim. So now, not only is your husband not only the ‘invader’, the ‘usurper’, but now the frost giant who isn’t even Asgardian. It’s a nightmare and a half and poor Pepper Potts has been trying to reach you for hours, and when she gets you the first question out of her mouth?  
“Are you and the kids okay?”   
Bless the woman, she was too good for Mr. Stark.

“I’m fine Miss Potts. I had been feeling warm, so my children used their natural sedir to acclimate. The hue shift of my skin is… as Dr. Strange put it, a likely echo effect of their magic working in tandem with my own body and their DNA. I knew Loki’s Jotun heritage would manifest but not in that manner.”  
“You sure you’re okay? Nothing wrong-“  
“I assure you Miss Potts, I am well. According for Strange and Bruce, I should keep myself in cooler setting in the future, and avoid anything overly hot. That said- how is the fall out of the incident?”  
“Bad. You’re being labeled a mutant- not enhanced or alien. There is talk of you being an inhuman as well. Russian just put forth a motion to have you taken into custody for your own safety to ensure Loki won’t come and kill us for you falling ill.”  
“I’m sure Russia has the best intentions.” The droll is flat, and Potts snorts a laugh.  
“Naturally. Tony wanted me to ask if you’ve had any luck contacting Loki from your end with Strange.”

Your heart sinks. Loki always had shields up to prevent others from finding him, and while Strange and you had been trying to find him, he was simply untraceable. You both admired and loathed your husband’s skill in evasion at times. 

“No.” Your voice is soft and you can practically feel the comforting smile on the other end of the line.  
“Don’t give up, (y/n), I’m sure he’s working on something to get you back.”  
You smile a bit, and saying your goodbyes, you confirm yes, you’re still doing Good Morning America tomorrow. 

Across the globe, Loki is having to apologize to the young panthress about broken equipment. Watching you become weakened, to watch his children in your womb use magic out of survival instinct tells him all he needs to know. The stress is weakening you, and without his sedir to help stabilize you, your body isn’t going to be able to carry his offspring safely. His magic was always with you on Asgard, woven into the Palace, his bed, your clothes, the bath oils, the medicine. Here you rely on a mystic who’s not a jotun and cannot use the magic _he_ is born with. His children need him, you need him. But he can’t act yet. The man out of time and his companions have yet to position themselves in the places they must be.

But he hopes tomorrow you will be a little bit stronger. For now, he rages, and has to make amends when his rage is taken out on the young scientist’s equipment and she’s left having to try and assure her elder brother that what he, Loki, God of Mischief has done is not harm. He has only been made to suffer as he watched his love slowly begin to die while everyone around her is blind to it.  
Strange’s seals bind him still, and so long as you remain in his sanctum, in his charge, Loki cannot even near without feeling the magic rip at him, rippling and risking alerting Odinson to his presence.  
Loki, for the first time in a long time, begins to understand why Odin never allowed himself to care.   
Caring hurts too much.

Your morning is filled with makeup, cameras, and smiling faces greeting you in New York City as you introduce yourself.  
“And joining us today is the supposed Queen of Asgard, (y/n).” The female host smiles at the camera and you want to rip her head off already.  
“There is no supposed. I am the rightful queen, crowned and coronated. Just as Loki is the rightful king.” The woman smiles but you can sense she nor her male co hosts did not expect you to correct her.  
“My apologize, just with Thor-“  
“I tire of this repetition, but, must I continue to remind everyone that Thor is no longer among us? Odinson has been deemed unworthy of his birthright, by the very symbol or his station, one wh’s magics were crafted by his father, Odin, the previous king. Without Thor, my husband was the sole heir, and was forced to accept the crown lest Asgard have an internal civil war over the throne.”  
You sit straight, looking like you might murder them. You have been patient, but after the other day, and Bruce’s well intentioned hovering, you’re ready to snap.  
“It’s just hard to believe that Thor’s not well, Thor anymore.” Her male cohost tries to recover it all, and you nod.   
“I understand it’s been two years. It is not my burden to have people understand the nuances of realm who’s politics should not be their concern. I am just growing weary of people thinking that somehow Loki has cheated his way to the throne. Once, perhaps, but now it is his for only the fact he was unwilling to see his home devolve into a civil war.”  
“Lets move on shall we?” The woman shifts her note cards. You wish she’d drop them and be forced to eat her own shoes but, alas, no small things for you.

Not until the subject of the previous interview comes up.  
“So, what was with the blue skin the other day? Some symptom of your pregnancy?”  
You were ready for this.  
“Yes, as a human, my body is naturally much too warm for a jotun child, and while they have half my DNA, they are half of Loki’s heritage as well. The studio was too warm so when I felt warm, their natural born magic rose to help protect them and myself. Had they no means to cooling down it is.. likely they might have been harmed.”  
The men look uncomfortable.  
“Are the alright now?” The woman asks, her genuine manner of inquiry not reaching her eyes.  
“Yes, my associates were able to help me, and for now, I am alright. We’re just monitoring my vitals more closely now. My fear is just that without Loki, something might happen and without him and his knowledge, I might-“ You hold your hand over the swell of your belly, biting back tears.  
“Forgive me, I really do miss him.”  
The woman grins, “It’s not like there is much for you to miss given he’s abusive.”

You see red.  
“How DARE you!” You stand making them all jump. You don’t notice it, a nearby man drawing a weapon, a gun. “Loki’s crimes against me are mine to determine, mine to forgive. How dare you insinuate that I would cast him aside for past wrongs. I love him I-“  
The woman shows her true colors.  
“He’s a monster! And you’re a traitor!” You don’t notice the man taking aim.  
But Steven Rodgers does, and the sound of metal against metal rings out clear as bell even among the screams.

He’s grown a beard, he wears rugged clothes and carries an unfamiliar shield. Yet he’s unmistakable as he speaks to the room.  
“This woman is our protector! Without her, we have no hope for peace!” Outside, the world watches as Captain America fights the Hydra agents swarming the TV studio alongside the Hulk.  
The world watches as you scream in pain, clutching your midsection while Dr. Strange frantically opens a portal to Stark’s private residence. The world watches as your skin turns a deep cobalt, as your crown falls to the floor. The world watches your water break, two and half months too soon. The world watches as the woman fires a gun into your side.

Loki watches in horror, the reality gem rippling with power in his new scepter of vibranium,  
as you and his children die.


	54. Mistake

Strange had never used the time stone for selfish reasons. It was against everything he stood for, everything he’d been taught by the Ancient One, the person who had given him his second life. The infinity gem was a tool too powerful to be controlled by one. It was to be used for the many. But as you fell, bleeding out, he knew that sometimes, you had to be selfish.

He knew that sometimes, to stop a greater evil, you had to become evil yourself. To correct a mistake, you had to make one first. So he made his mistake. Knowing he was condemning Earth to an uncertain future, he made a mistake that was his not-mistake.

And reset the clock.


	55. What it means to be Royal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See what a scourge is laid upon your hate,  
> That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love!

Loki stood outside the doors of the Sanctum, New York’s sanctum to be precise, at exactly 7:26 am on a Tuesday morning in the middle of winter. It was the twelfth month of the Midgardian Gregorian calendar, the 25th day, the celebratory holiday they called Christmas, the capitalistic centric celebration with it’s roots in Yule and Catholicism. 

You had never mentioned this holiday to him, and he suspects if you had, you’d not pay it much mind while on Asgard. But he would have, if only because he cherished the way you smiled for him when he gave in to those small nuanced things that reminded you of your once home. He would have held a small feast made for just the two of you, having brought little items that you missed to help show that while he might never celebrate your Yule, he would honor those cherished memories you carried from your life. He guessed at what you liked- Honey glazed ham and turkey were staples, but, he thought perhaps you’d prefer the darker meat of the fowl. The tart and sweet cranberry sauce, (which he’d tried down at a restaurant not too far away the night previous and found delightful in it’s simple complexity), he also guessed you would like mashed root, potatoes. It seemed every Midgardian did after all. After your little personal feast he would have given you a small gift. Perhaps a bauble or trinket. Nothing overt. No, overt would be something cherished, something meaningful. Like your favorite book, a well crafted symbol that you adored, something distinctly Midgardian so you would know that without a doubt, he loved you.

He loved you so much he would never say the lengths of which he’d go to see you smile, he could only show you, in his own convoluted way.

He’d make love to you after, sweet and gentle. Make love to you, worship you, hold you and tell you in the way of his body and your flesh how you make his heart race, his desire grow with each passing day, with each smile and laugh that left your lips. He’d make love to you, over and over again, because he never did when he should have. 

But all those things had never happened, would never happen, because you had been taken from him, and brought against your will to the world you left behind, a world that no longer wanted you.

Yet he loves you, and that his why at exactly 7:27 am, Tuesday morning, he knocks on the doors of the Sanctum, gold and Black scepter in hand, two of six slots filled. One red, the other blue. When Dr. Strange opens the door, Loki half expects the surprise, what he didn’t expect is the soft smile that followed. It’s melancholic, and in his mind he knows why.

They both have been waiting for this day for a long time.

The power of an infinity gem is varied in it’s abilities. Just as the time stone can alter the perceived past, present, and future, it also resonates with the possible changes in the fabric of reality.  
And when you possess the Reality gem, you can sense these changes like ripples in a clear pond, distorting the image until it returns. So Loki had seen the reality that morning, the day you died. He’d felt your life end in his arms, the space stone used to bring himself to your side moments after the gun was fired, as you gasped for your life and clutching your belly, not knowing the two precious souls inside had already left to Valhalla. He’d felt you leave him, seen your joy as you saw him, as you said his name, (so much love in your voice, so much happiness, even as death’s kiss deepened). He heard you call him your king, your love, all before you left him; and he was left alone, his happiness taken from him once more, as all things he loved were. 

And his eyes had met the Sorcerer Supreme and he saw the ripple. The change.   
Time is a great illusion. A great lie, (and what is he but a God of Lies?). Time, for all it’s power, is all about perception and relativity, (and who is he but the one who wields the infinity gem of such).   
Reality changes depending on how one views the world around them, (his view of now is your death, but he would view another).

So as Strange had begun to reset the clock, Loki had grabbed onto the reality he’d known and forced it to be seared into his mind. He wrapped himself in it. The feelings of powerlessness, in loss, in anger and rage and sadness and fear. The feeling of love that he never thought he would feel or be worthy of. The memory of you, calling his name, and smiling for him, even as you died.

Strange took himself back in time, and Loki met him there, the night before his love was fated to die.

“You didn’t know.” It is the first thing Strange says to him, and Loki grinned.   
“I did not. I suspected she would die, that the Norns would demand the prophecy of Ragnarok to begin as it should have. They do not take kindly to my defiance of the destiny they’ve made.”  
Strange nods, “Norns- Fate- it’s a bit of a mess right now isn’t it?”  
“True, but, things have a way of working themselves out.”  
“Yet, you didn’t try to stop it, move to change what you thought would-“  
“I had to know for certain if she was fated to die.” He knows one day you will, but when is the variable he cannot predict. He needs you now. He wants you, Sigyn his fated wife or not, you are (y/n), and he would have _you_ , not a woman who does not exist.  
Strange was pensive, and then he’d said something that Loki hadn’t considered.  
“Do you think that maybe, she is both the snake and one who holds the bowl?”  
“I beg your pardon?”  
“She hurts you- because you love her, and she uses you, just as much as you use her. Yet, at the same time, she loves you, and fights for you, for your happiness and future just as you do for her. You’ll kill her, will be the cause of her death one day, but even so, all the pain she suffers, she does willingly because she loves you. She’s the snake dripping venom on your face- a reminder of your failures, your evils, the punishment of which is to constantly be made weak and vulnerable because you love her. But-She’s your Sigyn, the one who would protect you and love you when all others wouldn’t. She gives you a reason to hope, to fight and live on- to give a reason for Ragnarok one day.”   
Loki hates it. He has been defying fate. Defying the destiny laid out before him. He will begin Ragnarok when he chooses. He will not be forced to yield to the yoke of destiny. And yet-

Loki hated the fact that perhaps, the annoying gnat that was Stephen Strange was quite possibly _right. ___

__“If, and it’s a big if, she is my fated love, my Sigyn, then was this just another step? Would you not say that by changing the course, we have only stalled the inevitable?”  
Strange shrugs. “It’s entirely possible that because you’ve technically experienced it, it’s already happened. In one reality it has. But- you’ve already experienced losing her before haven’t you? We’ve already met once before haven’t we?” The question hangs in the air._ _

__The reality where he trapped you, killed you slowly over centuries and you only allowed yourself to die once he had known true happiness. Known the depth of your true, pure love. The reality where he has a family, a kingdom, but one where he was left alone to live eternal and endless without you._ _

__The reality where he had allowed himself to grown complacent, thinking isolating you then allowing your return to earth, only for you to be taken captive, memories ripped from your and your sons forced under geas, stifling them to live their lives as mortals. A reality where he ripped apart the cosmos to have the power to destroy the world that had tried to destroy you._ _

__“We have. It was much like this. A meeting before I was set to reclaim what I had lost.” Loki sighed, feeling the echo of the reality stone inside the scepter. He’d used it, terribly so, while on Sakaar. Curiosity showing him futures he knew he could not bear. Fates, he could not live with, because without you, he no longer felt alive._ _

__“And what did you lose when you lost her?” Strange is asking the question Loki himself doesn’t know the answer to, and he opens his mouth to lie and finds, he cannot._ _

__“I don’t know.” So he tells the truth.  
Strange smiles tightly, “You will one day, I just hope it’s sooner than later.” They went back to Strange’s office and spoke at length. The interview was canceled. Steve Rodgers would arrive shortly under and false name, and would soon take his place as your outspoken supporter. He would shine in the light to be a shield. From the dark, the winter solider would be a sword at your back, hunting down the nest of vipers. Slowly, Loki’s unlikely allies would gather around you, and the world would be forced to make a decision. _ _

__What lie did they wish to believe.  
That Loki would never seek to rule earth, or that Thanos was not a threat.  
The truths under the lies made it a logical decision, and in time, it would reach it’s head. For now, they had to simply keep you safe. They had to keep your children healthy- and only Loki could do that, yet to go to you for more than but fleeting times would alert those who moved against him and have them move against you. Even meeting with Strange as he was put you in danger._ _

__SHEILD and many persons had a vested interest in finding you, and taking you captive, (live or not)._ _

__So Loki gave Strange a measure of trust. They were both men of logic, of magic. They could see past the single moment. For now, Strange would support you and his children with the aid of key spells, of the casket of ancient winters. For now, Loki would move in the shadows at a distance. Eliminating threats until the time was right._ _

__

__And on the 25th of December, it was time._ _

__You were scheduled to do a Christmas special interview with CNN, your sons cradled protectively in your arms, swaddled in gold and green blankets, white poinsettias embroidered for a holiday flair. Arriving directly at the Station risked outing Wakanda’s vibranium mine, the one place he had all but lived in given the natural barrier it made against spells and various sciences. The space stone might let _him_ enter and leave as he wished, but he’d not risk it. Not after the tiny panthress had shown him much kindness, her brother and king showing him his due respect and equal part wariness and understanding to the mechanizations at play. _ _

__So as he met with Strange in the Sanctum, they went over the plan.  
“Star spangled banner is acting as our spot man and knows to expect you and where. Banner will have the boys-“  
“I’m told he’s quite fond of them? What of-“  
“You really think the Hulk would hurt ‘Tiny girl’s’ kids? The Hulk adores her, and by extension, your kids. He calls them tiny gods you know.”  
“Lovely.” Loki drawls. He loathes the fact that the beast has held his sons, knows his sons, and he- he has not. It will always pain him, to know you gave birth and he couldn’t be there. That all he could do was visit your dream, and tell you he loved you, how proud he was of you, how he loved his sons, your sons, their sons. He will regret it for all of eternity. But he will never regret the small suffering because now, he will have you again._ _

__“Winter Solider?”  
“Barnes,” Strange replies tersely, “is ready. He’s been keeping his eyes out and so far, nothing.”  
“The insect?”   
“From what I know, he’s got his uh,” the flying ant on the shelf drew his eye, and Loki smirked, “he’s got his men on watch.”  
“Stark?”  
“On standby for with the PR team. Foster’s got the bridge ready for your ‘request’.” The dramatic entrance.   
“Odinson?”   
“At a bar in the Netherlands with Sif.”  
“Vision?” The query over the Mind Gem’s being gave Strange pause.  
“He knows.” It is a good enough answer for Loki, who feels his impatience brewing under his skin._ _

__Strange opens the portal above the studio just as the light of Jane Foster and Stark’s Bifrost opens up, a dozen royal guards pouring out onto the roof as Loki steps out from the shadows and into the glow of the studio cameras._ _

__“You’re savior has arrived!”  
He smiles, your eyes widen, you lips part in a gasp._ _

__You say his name, the ghost of a whisper, and he walks over to and kneels before you.  
“My queen.” Your eyes water, and he lets his magic wash over you, filling the room. Your modest dress becomes a gown of gold and green, your crown grows in it’s complexity, the tarnish gone, the dents and small scrapes vanished. His sons giggle and squeal in delight as he lets his magic surround them, fill them as he should have been able to do.  
“My love.” He reaches out and pulls your hand in his, kissing the knuckles, the ring he gave you on Sakaar. The one thing you kept from the place that was your prison. _ _

__He is kneeling, and he looks up into your face, and find himself. He knows then without a doubt, what he would lose if he had lost you.  
“My Royal.”_ _

__His kiss tastes of his magic, and he sees your smile again, he sees the love in your eyes and feels it in his heart.  
“I am sorry you have waited for me.”  
You are his haven.   
Without he is nothing but a liar, a trickster._ _

__You answer him, cupping his face and telling him the words he never thought he would hear and know were true. Words to answer all his crimes, all the pain he causes, all the suffering he inflicts. Words he has fought to hear, wanted to hear, because he loves you and wants to be worthy of you and only you._ _

__“I forgive you.”_ _

__So long as he has you, he has your love, your forgiveness, then he is worthy enough to call himself a King._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ends one tale of our reader and her tragic love. There is an epilogue planned that will be coming, as well as an offshoot AU.


End file.
